ACT 34: Our Little Girl Has Grown Up
by Galaxy1001D
Summary: When Roger Smith is kidnapped by a beautiful mad scientist, Dorothy teams up with Angel to rescue him. THE BIG O: SEASON THREE
1. Lesson One

_The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network._

THE BIG O:

ACT 34

OUR LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP

_Big-O!_

_Big-O! Big-O! Big-O!_

_Big-O!_

_Big-O! Big-O! Big-O!_

_Cast in the name of God!_

**Negotiator**

_Ye not the guilty!_

**Android**

_We have come to terms!_

**Butler**

_Big-O!_

**Officer**

_Big-O!_

_Big-O! Big-O! Big-O!_

_Big-O!_

_Big-O! Big-O! -O! -O! Big-O!_

_Chapter One: Lesson One_

_This is Paradigm City. Forty years ago we lost our past, but that doesn't mean we can't dream and make plans for the future._

In the heart of the city, outside of the titanic geodesic domes that protected the neighborhoods and estates of the rich stood a spacious tower that was formerly a bank before the disaster that left Paradigm City without memories. It was built over the nexus of the underground transportation system that the metropolis had enjoyed until four decades ago. The suites at the top floor were decorated like a Victorian mansion; the roof was a patio that had tasteful sculpture and a garden.

Encircling the rooftop patio was a one and a half foot wide wall that was slightly over three feet tall. This wall separated the roof from the dizzying drop to the street below, and standing on this wall was a slender teenage girl. The petite teenager was dressed in a reddish black dress that had a white ruffled collar and formal white cuffs. A set of black stockings and shiny black shoes completed her ensemble. Her red pageboy haircut was immaculate, her bangs broken by a black barrette. Her skin was alabaster white, her features were dainty and her dark violet eyes were mysterious as they gazed over the city.

"R. Dorothy Wayneright, what have I told you about standing up there?" a man's voice playfully scolded. As the girl turned the quiet whirring of an electronic motor could be heard. Standing behind her was a tall man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. His broad shoulders and trim waist indicated both strength and agility. His jet-black hair, strong jaw and high cheekbones on his boyish face made him the definition of 'tall, dark, and handsome'. He was clad in a black suit consisting of black double-breasted jacket, matching trousers, shoes and gloves. His shirt was crisp and white and his black tie was bisected by a gray stripe. He was beaming at her as the sun shone off his raven black hair.

"I assure you I'm perfectly safe," she said in a calm voice. "My sense of balance is better than a human's and I'm perfectly aware of my surroundings."

"Let's see what makes it so special," he said as he climbed onto the wall to stand beside her. He looked down. "Well, aside of a touch of vertigo I don't see what the appeal is. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were just trying to get attention."

"Nonsense Roger," she replied. "I've been standing on the ledge for over a year and you haven't been showing me any attention."

"I'm thinking maybe that should change," he said as he sat down on the wall with his long legs dangling over the safe side. "Since you got into my head you know how I really feel about you. I don't have any secrets anymore."

"I disagree," the girl said as she sat on the wall next to him. "I'm sure you have many secrets I'd be interested in."

"You have secrets of your own," Roger smiled knowingly. "I'm not falling for your 'emotionless android' act anymore. You're actually quite passionate aren't you? Deep beneath all that ice the fire burns pretty hot doesn't it?"

"Not that _you_'_d_ ever know," she teased in her calm voice. "For someone who runs headfirst into danger you play it safe when it comes to affairs of the heart."

"Maybe playing it safe is holding me back," Roger nodded. "If there's one thing I've learned the hard way, it's that I'm not going to get anywhere playing it safe or looking the other way. From now on I'm going to explore and question. And speaking of questions, why _do_ you stand up there anyway?"

"If you must know when the wind blows up my skirt it's quite stimulating," she said matter-of-factly.

"I can think of another way to stimulate you," Roger winked.

"Do tell," Dorothy tilted her head slightly as she leaned close to him. "I'm waiting."

Roger leaned in and softly caressed her lips with his. His hand rose to gently brush his fingertips across her shoulder, up the nape of her neck and across her jawline just below her ear. Dorothy responded as her mouth searched hungrily for him but he kept backing up, teasing her until he had led her off the wall back onto the safety of the rooftop patio.

When their feet touched the roof he rewarded her by embracing her and leaning in as their lips and tongues explored each other. Roger could hear strains of violin music that was somehow managing to be both passionate and gentle as it filled the air with an energy that cannot be described, only enjoyed.

No. The music wasn't like that at all. It was an obnoxious cacophony of piano music that managed to be both somber and impudent, smashing through that magical moment like a rock through a pane of glass. Roger opened his eyes to find himself lying in bed; his only company a darkened room with the shades pulled down to shut out the morning sunlight.

"R DOROTHY WAYNERIGHT!"

If his bellow was heard by the girl in the parlor, she didn't show it. She just kept playing the piano with a wild abandon that somehow didn't reach her face. R Dorothy Wayneright was dressed exactly like she did in his dreams, right down to the black barrette in her hair. "Good morning Roger," she said evenly as the door burst open to reveal an angry young man in black pajamas. "I trust you slept well?"

"Yes, for the first time in weeks!" he snarled. "For an entire month I've had nothing but nightmares, and now when I finally have a _good_ dream you have to go and ruin it for me! I know you're an android Dorothy, but how can you be so heartless?"

Dorothy stopped playing. "You had a good dream this time? Was I in it?"

Roger's eyes bulged guiltily as he held his breath. "Er uh… no, of course not. It had nothing to do with you."

"Really?" Her emotionless voice was good for conveying skepticism. "You're sure?"

"Absolutely," he nodded as he looked away.

"Then why are you blushing?" she asked.

Roger gave an angry frown and trudged out of the room. He made a grunting noise that sounded vaguely like "shut up" as he passed the piano.

From a certain angle, the neutral expression on Dorothy's face looked like a smile.

* * *

_This city is a city without Memory. One day, forty years ago, everyone human or robot lost all knowledge of what had happened before. The denizens of the city just try to go on with their lives and prove that civilization can exist without a past. In order to survive, the citizens of Paradigm City have learned to stop worrying about what they've lost and take steps necessary to protect what they have._

Even though it meant more maintenance time later Dorothy still made it a habit to savor a cup of tea in order to participate in Roger's morning meal. As Roger's butler had once pointed out, sitting at the table with Roger meant that she was a guest and not a servant. She was considered part of the family and not part of the staff.

"You've changed your pajamas," she said as she sipped her tea.

Roger smirked as he glanced down at his clothes. He had changed out of his sleepwear into the uniform traditionally used for unarmed martial arts training. If memory served him the outfit was called a _gi _by the employees of Yoshifuda Yakamoto Industries in the West Dome. The loose jacket and pants were bound by a sash at the waist that served as a belt. Although the _gi_ was traditionally white, in Roger's house it was black. It was understandable that young Dorothy would mistake the outfit for a sturdy pair of pajamas.

"That's because today I'm training you in unarmed combat," Roger smiled. "It's ridiculous that an android who can knock a door out of its hinges gets kidnapped as often as you do and I think that teaching you a few basic moves could make a difference. After breakfast dress appropriately and meet me in the gym."

Dorothy set down her teacup and looked at him. "You want me to dress like you?"

"Yes."

Her flat tone was good for expressing disgust. "You are such a louse, Roger Smith."

"What brought this on?" he protested good-naturedly. "I'm not saying you can't take care of yourself, but I worry about you. With a few basic moves you should be able to take on all comers. What's the big deal?"

"I refuse to dress so inappropriately just so you can humiliate me, Roger Smith." She was calling him by his first and last name. That was Dorothy's way of raising her voice. "This is a level I didn't know you could sink to."

"Dorothy you aren't going to get out of this by insulting my fashion sense," Roger growled. "I didn't mind you voicing your opinion before because it let me know that there's a person in there, but this time I'm putting my foot down. I'm going to train you and you're going to wear an outfit like I'm wearing. There's no point damaging any clothing you'll want to wear in public. After breakfast, I expect you to be in the practice room on the third floor, dressed like I tell you, and _wearing black_! Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear Roger," she said as she rose from the table. "If you are so adamant, I better go change. If you'll excuse me." With that, she walked off without another word.

Roger sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as the android girl left. "Norman?" he asked the man standing quietly behind his chair. "What happened just now? What did I say this time?"

Norman Burg, his valet and butler, was a tall gangly old man dressed in an archaic tuxedo. Although his thinning white hair didn't cover his balding pate, he did sport an impressive handlebar moustache. Norman had turned to watch Dorothy go and from his right side Roger couldn't see the black eyepatch that covered the elderly butler's left eyesocket. "I'm afraid I'm not sure, Master Roger," he said in an apologetic tone. "Normally when you say something inappropriate it's quite obvious but I have no clue of what caused Miss Dorothy's bad temper this time. I was under the impression that she had already agreed to be trained in self-defense. Most puzzling."

"Yeah," Roger grunted as he tried to figure out what started the argument. What was the matter with her? Had he embarrassed her somehow? It couldn't just be that she didn't want to wear a karate uniform. There had to be something else going on. Was she bothered by the close physical contact the lesson promised? He didn't think she should be intimidated by him physically. She was stronger than he was for crying out loud.

Could it be that she was shy about grappling with him because she was a girl? Or did it bother her that Roger wasn't shy about grappling with her because he wasn't thinking of her as a girl? Or was she afraid that the lesson would highlight the fact that she wasn't a flesh and blood girl at all, that under her egg white skin was a metal skeleton? Dorothy was a complex person all right, so complex that it was hard to believe that she wasn't a human girl. In Roger's experience, human girls were complex by definition.

* * *

When he entered the practice room he discovered the reason for Dorothy's discomfort. The girl was standing on the practice mat wearing nothing but a silky black slip that clung precariously to her body by a pair of fragile spaghetti straps. To say that she looked vulnerable and undressed would be an understatement.

"Dorothy!" he sputtered. "What the devil are you wearing?"

"I'm wearing what you told me to wear," Dorothy said. "You ordered me to come here clad in nothing but black sleepwear. This is the only black sleepwear I own."

"Oh! Dorothy!" he groaned before he burst out laughing. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean that at all. You thought I wanted you in _this_? No wonder you were so upset at breakfast! What must you think of me?"

"I fail to see the humor Roger Smith."

"I'm sorry; I guess I'm just blowing off steam," Roger chuckled. He sobered before looking at her expressionless face and doubling over with laughter.

"May I go?" Dorothy asked quietly.

Roger coughed awkwardly into his fist. He looked at her again. She looked so small and fragile, so exposed. Her slip was so short that it didn't even cover her thighs. He shuddered when he realized what her misunderstanding implied. Did Dorothy really think he would _order_ her to spar with him wearing only a revealing undergarment? What kind of monster did she think he was?

"Sorry Dorothy," he muttered. "You're right of course. There's nothing funny about this at all. I assure you, I'd never order you to do something like this against your free will. I—"

"You just did," she said.

"No! No, I didn't," he insisted as he shook his head. "Quite frankly, I'm insulted that you would even think I would do something like that. Since you've moved in here, I've been a perfect gentleman when it comes to…"

"I wouldn't say 'perfect,'" she interrupted.

"I would never take advantage of an underage girl like that! You kn—"

"How _would_ you take advantage then?"

"I wouldn't take advantage of _any_ woman who didn't want me to!" he shouted before clearing his throat and continuing normally. "Honestly Dorothy, don't you trust me at all? How could you think that I'd do something like this?"

"You haven't been yourself lately," Dorothy offered. "I can only speculate on what must be going through your mind."

"That's rich, coming from you," he snorted. "You're about as easy to read as braille through gloves! Honestly Dorothy, if you don't let us in, you won't be able to communicate with anyone! If I had the slightest inkling that this is what you thought I would have…"

"Don't worry about it," Dorothy said. That was her special code for 'You've hurt my feelings, but I don't want to talk about it; please stop while I still have a shred of dignity.' Sometimes hearing her say, 'Don't worry about it' hurt worse than 'You're a louse, Roger Smith.'

Unfortunately, Roger wasn't finished. He still had to vent before he could let it go. "There you are again!" he nagged. "You're shutting me out! How can I help you if you won't let me in? How can anybody help if you won't let them understand you?"

"I believe we have a lesson in unarmed combat waiting for us," she insisted.

"In _that_?" Roger's eyes bulged in disbelief as he gestured at Dorothy's revealing garment. "That flimsy thing couldn't take the punishment! You'll be naked before… er uh… Well I guess I could teach you a few deep breathing exercises. The first thing you have to learn is how to control your breathing. It's vital that you don't forget to breathe in the middle of a fight or else you'll get lightheaded…" His voice trailed off when he saw Dorothy raise her eyebrows politely. "That's right; you don't have to breathe," he cleared his throat noisily.

"I suppose I should take it a compliment," Dorothy said. "Now I know why you continuously remind me that I'm an android. Otherwise you can't keep track yourself can you Roger?"

"Take that off!" he growled as he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I can't think straight with you dressed like that!"

"Right here?"

"You know what I mean!" he snapped as he crossed his arms and looked at the mat. He could see Dorothy's bare feet as she walked past him towards the door. He couldn't remember ever getting such a good look at her bare feet before. Her creator must have been a foot fetishist because Dorothy's dainty feet made her seem naked more than the revealing slip did. "Come back here in a karate suit! Ask Norman to get you one! Come to think of it, why didn't Norman get one out for you? Norman!" he called, well bellowed is probably a better word for it.

The elderly butler appeared at the door just seconds after Dorothy disappeared through it. "Yes sir?"

"Why wasn't Dorothy issued a karate suit?" Roger demanded. "She just left here wearing sleepwear for her honeymoon!"

"Miss Dorothy's getting married Master Roger?" Norman asked brightly. "Are you the groom? I suppose congratulations are in order."

"No she isn't getting married!"

"That's such a shame sir," the butler sighed. "She really is a good catch."

"Norman…" Roger growled in a warning tone. "Get her a karate suit. Now."

* * *

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

_Next: __The Call from the Past_


	2. The Call from the Past

_The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network._

THE BIG O:

ACT 34

OUR LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP

_Chapter Two: The Call from the Past_

Soon Dorothy returned wearing a _gi_ of her own. She looked just like a little boy in that outfit, but she was still adorable. She still had those naked feet though, but it really couldn't be helped. "Is this what you had in mind Roger?" she asked quietly.

"Sure Dorothy," he said before clearing his throat to hide the awkwardness of their last session. "Okay, I guess we can skip the breathing exercises. How _does_ an android center herself anyway?"

"What do you mean by 'center myself?'" the little android asked. "Do you mean by my bilateral center or my center of mass?"

"Neither," Roger shook his head. "'Grounding and centering' is a meditation and visualization technique that allows you to focus on both yourself and your surroundings to become whole and aware, especially in times of stress. One of the first steps of mastering unarmed combat is learning how to center yourself and how to breathe in order to use your body's potential to the fullest."

"I could do a scan of the area and run a personal diagnostic," Dorothy suggested. "That way I would be perfectly aware of both my surroundings and my state of being. There isn't much I can do about the breathing. Will that do?"

"Oh boy, this is going to be harder than I expected," Roger muttered before assuming a combat pose. "Okay, let me show you how to stand. Right now your stance is nice and feminine, perfect for a proper lady, but let's face it; it's not very good for combat. The proper stance keeps you well balanced but allows you to move easily in any direction. Keep your feet about shoulder width apart, no more than eighteen inches with your weight evenly balanced across both of them. Try to stand at an angle to a potential attacker, say some thirty degrees or so. Since I'm right handed, I prefer to stand with my left leg slightly forward, but you can choose either side if you want to. This way I have good balance front and back, as well as to either side."

Dorothy mirrored his posture. "Like this?"

"Yes, that's excellent, Dorothy," he said as he walked over to her. "Hold that pose." He grasped her legs, then her shoulders and finally pushed her head down slightly as he adjusted her fighting stance. "Stand on the balls of your feet so you have your weight and your center of balance in the middle. Keep your knees slightly bent, your chin down, elbows in to your side and your hands up. Don't form a fist; that telegraphs your intentions and besides, you have much more flexibility with your hands open. Standing with your fists clenched like a boxer signals your intention to stand and fight and may trigger a situation you can still avoid. After all, a negotiator only uses force as a last resort." He stood back to study her. "Okay, before we continue we better practice some tumbles and falls."

"What for?"

"Your opponent is going to try to knock you off your feet as quickly as possible," he explained. "You need to learn how to fall without getting hurt and how to get back up as quickly as possible. Not only that, but we better learn how to take a fall if we don't want to hurt each other. You'd be surprised how often an opponent's blow doesn't hurt as much as hitting the ground."

"I understand."

"Okay, we've got a good dependable practice mat beneath us," Roger assured her. "It's nice and thick so it should cushion a fall as long as we land right. Okay Dorothy. Come at me."

When Dorothy swung at him, he stepped to the side and grasped her wrist… only to discover that throwing a two hundred and eighty pound android was harder than it looked. Not only that, but Dorothy hadn't properly lunged at him at all; she had simply closed and struck with her arm. Her blow hadn't left her off balance and she managed to seize Roger's wrist and pulled him off his feet to throw him to the ground. He landed on his back and stared up at the ceiling with a startled look as he lay on the floor.

"Did I hurt you Roger?"

Roger's expression was no longer surprised. Now it was indignant as his cheeks burned red. "No," he snapped. "I'm fine."

"All right, now that you've demonstrated how to fall, perhaps you should knock me off my feet so I can practice my tumbling," she suggested.

"Sure," Roger grunted as he rose to his feet and flexed his muscles. He was supposed to throw Dorothy down when she came at him. Instead he was fooled by her dainty appearance and fared so badly that the girl didn't realize that _she_ was the one who was supposed to fall. No point going gentle on Dorothy just because she was a girl. "Okay. Get ready."

He lashed out at her only for Dorothy to grab his wrist and throw him tumbling across the room. "Aren't you finished practicing your falls Roger?" she asked. "I thought it was my turn to fall now."

"You got a lot to learn about male superiority," Roger muttered as he got back up. He brushed his bangs off his forehead and took a breath. "Okay, come at me again," he said as he gestured to her.

"Pardon the interruption, Master Roger," Norman said as he carried a small tray with a black telephone on it. "There's a lady on the telephone for you sir."

"Thank you Norman," Roger nodded. "Dorothy, take five," he added as he reached for the telephone. "Roger Smith here. What can I do for you this fine morning?"

A husky female voice cooed through the line. "Roger dear, how are you darling? Are you free today? I thought we could go out to eat and go window shopping together. What do you say?"

Roger's face darkened. "Who is this?" He had a nasty feeling that he knew the answer already.

"Why what a short memory you have dear," the voice teased. "It's me. Jenny Grant. I thought the time we spent together last month was unforgettable."

"I've been trying hard to forget," Roger grunted.

"I can't believe you've forgotten all about me," she cooed. "When I caught you trespassing you made it up to me by showing me so much of you."

"You sprayed me with a fungus that almost ate my brain and then you stripped me to my underwear and strapped me to a lab table," Roger snapped.

"And you're still sore?" she giggled. "You got me back didn't you? You took me captive and handed me over to Zeke when you knew that he was going to kill me…"

"You got away didn't you?"

"Zeke Crater was the most notorious crime boss in the city," she continued with a playful scold. "You knew what he was capable of. And you knew he wanted revenge against poor little innocent me…"

"Innocent!" Roger barked. "You turned him into a monster and stole his money! In my book that's known as 'asking for it!'"

"He broke my heart," Jenny pouted over the phone. "I gave him the best years of my life and he walked all over me. He wasn't near the gentleman that _you_ are Roger dear. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You have such an athletic figure and such nice cheekbones. And you're such a smooth operator. I like a man who can take control like you do. The way you turned the tables on me, it puts shivers up my spine! That look in your eye when you told me that you weren't planning to let Zeke have me and you had a scheme to rescue me too. It really made my heart flutter…"

"Speaking of Zeke Crater," Roger interrupted. "Did you turn him into that giant amorphous blob that wrecked the warehouse?"

"He was a monster before I started tinkering with his DNA Roger darling," Jenny's voice taunted. "I gave him some stuff my dearly departed brother made before he died, bless his crazy little heart. I don't even know what it was; I just expected it to kill him… But fortunately the black megadeus did! So all's well that ends well…"

"You're insane—"

"I'm not crazy! I've been tested!"

"You need a second opinion."

"Ooh, you're so cruel, Roger," Jenny pouted over the phone. "Usually men are only cruel to me after we've been dating a while, but you just get right in there, don't you? Why are you so mean to me?"

"Probably because I never want to see you again," Roger sighed. "Any reason aside of being a gentleman why I shouldn't hang up right now?"

"You don't know what I can do for you Roger darling!" Jenny's voice became eager again. "I had Zeke on a health regimen that would have added thirty years to his life if he hadn't betrayed me. I increased his strength, stamina and sex drive by a hundred percent. Probably raised his agility by fifty percent…"

"I've seen what your 'health regimen' did to him," Roger said dryly. "You turned him into some kind of insect."

"I mean before that silly!" Jenny protested. "I mean before we had our little… 'falling out'…"

"Zeke Crater didn't survive your little 'falling out,'" Roger muttered into the phone. "If that's the way you break up with a guy I'll just remain single."

"Zeke Crater was a murderer and a criminal!" Jenny retorted. "You can do what you want to a murderer and a criminal! They don't count!"

"So it's okay to date one as well as kill one?"

"Of course it is Roger dear," Jenny insisted. "You can be a total freak with a twisted piece of work like Zeke Crater; you can't corrupt him, he's already twisted! You can do anything you like with him! That's half the fun!"

"Please Miss Grant, stop right there," Roger rolled his eyes. "I just had breakfast and I want to make sure that it stays down where it belongs."

"Ooh, sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to make you jealous!" Jenny giggled over the phone. "I just didn't want you to think that I'm a boring lab rat who doesn't know how to show a fella a good time!"

"I assure you, you're anything but boring," Roger muttered. "After what you did to me, I've had nightmares for the last two weeks."

"Aw… poor Roger!" she giggled. "Aren't you sweet? You've been dreaming about me! Tell me, are they _naughty_ dreams? I know how to do things that could make you bark like a dog."

"And probably turn me into a dog as well," Roger snorted as he remembered that her brother had turned human beings into house pets before transforming them into monsters. "Pass. I saw what you did to Zeke Crater. He may have deserved to be strung up and hung by the neck but he didn't deserve what _you_ did to him!"

"It's alright to kill a crime boss who's committed multiple homicides," Jenny assured him. "I already told you that murderers like Zeke don't count."

"Just remember that when they take you in," Roger sneered. "You'll probably be saying that all the way to the electric chair."

"You aren't going to tell anybody about my little… indiscretions are you?" Jenny asked with a hint of concern.

"No I thought the deal was that you drop the kidnapping charge and I keep quiet about what I saw at your house," Roger grunted. "Was it my imagination or were you cloning human beings?"

"There's no law against cloning!" Jenny insisted.

"Or were you just cloning body parts for organ harvesting?"

"You wouldn't talk so high and mighty if you needed a new kidney would you?" Jenny's sneer sounded more like a whine. "Now listen, if you needed a new kidney, wouldn't it be nice if one could be grown in a vat for you? That way you wouldn't have to be on any waiting list. None of your relatives would have to lose a kidney! Tell me what's so bad about that!"

"No comment."

"You just think I'm a kook just because I strapped you to my lab table and stripped you to your underwear!"

"Bingo."

"Well I'm not a kook!" Jenny's voice was now high and shrill instead of low and husky. She was probably a talented singer; her voice certainly had a wide range. "My brother Eugene was a kook, but I'm not! When he discovered the secret to life and death he thought he was God!"

"What about when _you_ discovered the secret to life and death?" Roger asked in a dry voice. "Did _you _think you were God?"

"No I thought I was better than God," Jenny clarified. "I thought I was rich."

"What?"

"Just think of all the commercial applications my research has Roger," the feminine mad scientist cooed. "Remember those plants I used to capture you and those thugs Zeke sent to get me? They were part of my research on restoring fertility to the soil around the city. If the soil can hold moisture again then things can grow on it. If things can grow on it, we can have farms outside the agricultural domes. Think about it."

"What about that fungus that slowly eats a man's brain while reducing him to a docile state of suggestion?" Roger asked. "That sort of thing's inhuman!"

"I only use it on hired killers," Jenny Grant insisted. "Hired killers don't count. It's okay to kill murderers. They're expendable."

"I've had to take a life or two myself in self-defense," Roger grumbled. "Do I count, or is it all right to kill _me_ if I get out of line?"

"No…" Jenny assured him. "No-no-no of course not! You count Roger dear of course you do! I would never inject you with a mutagen and condemn you to die a painful death while you transformed into a monster! Of course I wouldn't. For starters, with those itsy-bitsy robots in your cells it probably wouldn't work, anyway. You'd just get really sick and in a day or two you'd be fine."

"And that's another thing!" Roger growled. "What am I supposed to think when you claim that I've got microscopic robots swimming around in my bloodstream repairing my every injury? You probably think you can maim me and it will all turn out all right!"

"_Nanoscopic_, dear," Jenny corrected. "Microscopic isn't near small enough."

"I'm hanging up."

"No! Roger!" Jenny whined. "Don't hang up! There's a reason I want to see you again. I'm being followed and I'm in fear of my life! I've heard all about you. You help people who are in trouble. Well _I'm_ in trouble. I'm being followed and I'm afraid for my life…"

"The next time you say that you're afraid for your life, don't say it so playfully," Roger suggested. "I can tell you're not serious."

"I'm serious about having a big strong man around for protection," Jenny insisted. "I don't feel safe living all alone and I can't use my brain eating spores on anyone unless they deserve it…"

"Goodbye Jenny," Roger announced in a loud voice. "Have a nice life and try to stay out of trouble."

"Don't hang u—!"

Click. Roger hung up the telephone and handed it back to his butler. "Norman, you know that rule I have about letting attractive women into my house without my permission?"

"Yes Master Roger?"

"It doesn't apply to Jenny Grant."

"I had already made that assumption sir," the old man assured him. "Based off her last stay with us I assumed that she wasn't welcome here to begin with."

"Good man," Roger snorted as he assumed a martial pose while facing Dorothy. "You know, maybe my form would improve if you wore a black wig," he told her. "Let's get some sparring in while I still hate women on principle."

Dorothy gracefully mirrored his stance. Roger sighed as his aggression drained away. It was no good. Dorothy was still adorable.

* * *

In a hidden chamber on the other side town, an indignant woman hung up her phone. "Well that was rude of him," she sniffed. Jenny Grant was a short slender woman wearing a tailored green suit with a jacket worn over a fitted bodice. A long narrow pencil skirt hid her slender legs. Her skin was deathly white and her short bobbed hair was jet black. Fine cheekbones framed a sensual mouth that was adorned with blood red lipstick. Her left cheek was decorated with what looked like three beauty marks, but on closer examination were three six pointed stars. Her crooked smile didn't reach her large heavily mascaraed eyes. "Why do they always have to do things the hard way? Oh well. Time for 'Plan B.'"

* * *

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

_Next: Helpless_


	3. Helpless

_The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network._

THE BIG O:

ACT 34

OUR LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP

_Chapter Three: Helpless_

"All right, Dorothy!" Roger announced as he took a fighting stance. "Come at me while I'm still angry! Come at me!"

"I'll hurt you."

"You _want_ to hurt your opponent," Roger insisted. "He's going to take you away and take you apart. This is life or death here! Come on! Hit me!"

Dorothy took a swing at him but Roger leaned out of the way and brought his hands up sharply across his body to deflect the strike. Before she had time to recover, he stepped in towards her and struck upwards to her chin with the heel of his palm. As his arm straightened, Dorothy was forced to look straight up while she fell over backwards. A tiny feminine gasp was heard as she hit the mat.

In that instant Roger could no longer pretend the android was Jenny Grant for he could only see a helpless Dorothy Wayneright. He drew in a sharp breath and bent over to offer her a hand up.

The girl's foot kicked up at his stomach and Roger found out what getting kicked by a mule must have felt like back in the cowboy days. He tumbled backwards and crouched in a fetal position clutching his midsection while groaning.

"Roger?" Dorothy rose to her feet and walked over to him. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I just didn't have my abdominal muscles flexed like I should've," he gasped.

"You _are_ hurt," Dorothy said. "I think we should stop for the day and let Norman look at you."

* * *

Lunch was a little tense at the Smith house.

"You haven't talked about the phone call you received this morning," said the quiet girl on the other side of the dinner table.

"Haven't I?" A fully dressed Roger looked up from his chicken salad. "That's probably because I don't want to talk about it."

Dorothy glanced at Norman who was standing behind Roger, but the elderly butler's face was as hard to read as an android's. "You might feel better if you do," the girl suggested. "That's what you always say to me."

"I don't see what there is to talk about Dorothy," Roger muttered. "Jenny Grant called, it was upsetting, and I'm not going to give that woman another thought."

"What did she want?"

"I dunno, she acted like she wanted to go on a date or something," Roger shrugged. "So I told her I wasn't interested."

"Didn't she capture you and try to kill you?"

"Yeah, but I kidnapped her and risked her life to save yours," Roger grunted. "Please, Dorothy. I'm trying to eat here. I can't digest my food thinking about how that woman and I both crossed the line."

"She doesn't seem to be holding a grudge."

"If there's one thing that I've learned during my career as a negotiator, it's that people often keep their real agendas hidden," Roger grunted. "I just hope that I won't have to get a restraining order."

"It sounds like you made quite an impact on her."

"No I didn't," Roger muttered. "She thinks there are tiny robots in my cells that can repair any damage my body takes. All she wants to do is run some experiments on me. That and she's a sadist. Now be quiet. I don't want to talk about it anymore." He took a bite before throwing his fork down in frustration. "Now see what you've done! I can't get what that woman did to me out of my mind! How am I supposed to eat like this?"

"Perhaps it would help if you got it out of your system," Dorothy prodded.

Roger shook his head. "You don't want to hear this Dorothy. Heck, _I_ can't stand to listen to it myself…"

"If you have a legitimate complaint it's alright to talk about it," Dorothy offered. "It's not like I expect you to be an android or anything. You're only human."

"You want to know what my problem is?" Roger growled. "Fine! That woman took away my dignity! I was so helpless! She stripped me to my underwear and almost had her way with me for crying out loud! I don't know what I was more frightened of, getting cut up like a frog or… Oh forget it! I don't know why I'm talking about this anyway! You couldn't possibly understand how I feel!"

The lighting at the table made Dorothy's bland expression look like a frown.

"I'm… sorry Dorothy," Roger wiped his face and when he looked back at her he was blushing. "You of all people know _exactly_ how I feel. I was out of line. I shouldn't have bit your head off like that."

"That's all right," the girl said quietly. "I was asking for it. I told you to get it out of your system. If I don't like it, I won't tell you to do it again."

"My real problem is that I feel so ashamed," Roger looked down and shook his head. "I saw it all the time while working for the military police. The victim won't press charges against their attacker because they're too ashamed to say anything. Isn't that the dumbest thing you ever heard? And now look at me."

"I like looking at you."

"I mean look how I'm acting," Roger grunted. "I'll be all right, Dorothy. I'll get through it. I've been through lots of stuff before."

"You're shutting me out," Dorothy said. "I can't help you if you shut me out like this. I can't help you if you won't let me understand you."

"Didn't _I_ say that to _you_?" Roger smiled knowingly.

"Did you?" Dorothy's dry delivery almost masked her sarcasm.

Roger gave a rueful laugh. "I get it. I see what you're doing. You won't let me help you unless I let you help me is that it?"

"I believe the term is 'give and take' Roger." Dorothy's manner seemed more animated now. If she was human she would be beaming in triumph. "You ask me to trust you, but if I can use an expression: Trust is a two-way street."

"Master Roger, if you don't need me I'll take your salad and see how the soup is doing," Norman offered.

"Sure thing Norman," Roger nodded with a grin as the old man retreated to the kitchen to give them some privacy. "Okay," he leaned back in his chair nonchalantly. "I get it. I see where we're going with this. Okay I'll start. What that woman did to me is bothering me far more than it should. I don't understand why it's getting to me like this."

"She subjected you to a dreadful experience and since she's still on the loose she can do so again," Dorothy offered. "She has revealed that she still shows an interest in you so the danger is real. You don't feel safe and you're still reliving that sensation of helplessness..."

Roger closed his eyes and blushed while he shook his head. "Uh… Dorothy," he said with a grimace. "This whole 'trying to make me feel better' thing… um… you still seem kind of new at it…"

"Practice makes perfect Roger," the little android assured him. "I'm trying to assure you that you don't have to be ashamed of your reaction."

"What I'm ashamed of is running away from that woman," Roger grumbled. "I don't get it. I've been captured and restrained before. She's the one who's in the wrong, not me. So why do I feel so ashamed of myself? It's not like I asked for what happened to me."

"Roger I've been kidnapped six times," Dorothy told him. "And that's not including the times I've been cornered by a megadeus or captured by an electromagnet. Your reaction is perfectly natural."

"How do you do it, Dorothy?" Roger shrugged in surrender. "How do you just bounce right back like nothing happened?"

The girl didn't respond.

Roger nodded sadly. "You… don't just bounce back do you?" he sighed. "Those experiences, those memories, you carry them around with you every day don't you? How do you do it?"

"An android can carry more than a human Roger," the girl assured him.

"Even an android has her limits," Roger said with a hint of concern. "I want to help you repair some of the damage but I can't even help myself right now."

"Perhaps we need a distraction," Dorothy suggested. "A positive experience might balance out a negative one. Until you get a client it's worth a try."

"What did you have in mind?"

"You could take me dancing."

"Are you out of your mind?" he asked with a hint of exasperation.

"Not at all," she assured him. "Just yesterday you were complaining that you never go dancing anymore. I am both willing and available. We could go out to the Nightingale if it's still standing. I'm a member."

"R Dorothy Wayneright, are you asking me on a date?" Roger grinned wryly.

"Yes," Dorothy announced. "Two weeks ago, you told me that kidnapping victims battle issues of trust for the rest of their lives. If I want to go on a date I'll have to find someone that I trust. That leaves Norman and you."

"I'm flattered," Roger smirked, "but I don't think it would be appropriate."

"Why not?"

"Because I only date girls in a double digit age bracket."

"Excuse me?"

"We've been over this Dorothy," Roger sighed in exasperation. "What are you, two? Three at the most? You're not even a teenager. How could I look at myself in the mirror if I played with your heart like that?"

"It's only dancing," Dorothy told him. "I'm not asking you to get me drunk and take me home with you."

"You _can't_ get drunk and I _will_ take you home with me!" Roger protested. "I _have_ to take you home with me. You live here!"

"And I'm sure you'll get me back at a respectable hour," Dorothy assured him.

"Dorothy, I can't go on a date with you," he insisted. "I'm your guardian. I'm like your father…"

"_Norman_ is like my father," Dorothy corrected. "He's a kindly old man who is very good with robotics. Compared to Norman, you and Timothy Wayneright had very little in common."

"Than what am I?"

"You're my benefactor."

"You make me sound like a lecherous old man who's keeping a mistress," Roger hid his face with his hand.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing," the girl assured him. "We went out to dinner and went dancing on the anniversary of the day we met."

"That was different," Roger insisted. "We were celebrating."

"So? We can celebrate something now."

"Like what?"

"Life," Dorothy announced quietly. "We've both been kidnapped multiple times and we still exist. I think that is something worth celebrating."

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Roger laughed bitterly. "You like me being a kidnap victim and not just you. It really levels the playing field, doesn't it?"

"I'm not keeping score," she told him. "I've been kidnapped three times as much as you have. Rest assured whatever reason you have to feel helpless or ashamed, I have reason to feel even worse."

Roger winced at that remark. He got up and moved to a chair next to her. "Dorothy, that's why I'm walking on eggshells around you," he said as he held her hand in both of his. "You've been through so much in such a sort amount of time that I don't want to make it worse. I don't want to join the line of selfish monsters who've been treating you as some commodity or a plaything to use as they will. I don't want you to mistake me for one of those abusers, or think that you deserve that kind of abuse due to some kind of misguided loyalty. I don't want you to feel helpless when I'm in the room. I want to be part of the solution, not part of the problem, but I don't know how. You understand that, don't you?"

"Roger I've literally been taken apart," the girl said lifelessly. "I've become part of a killer megadeus twice. Do you really think that you could hurt me more than I've been hurt already? You don't have to worry. You can't damage me more than I've been already." For a while they were both still before she broke the silence. "Are you crying Roger?"

"What?" Roger sprang from the table like his chair was on fire and started frantically wiping at his face with a handkerchief. "N-no Dorothy! Of course not!"

"It's alright to cry if you need to Roger," she said quietly. "I'd cry myself if I could. Sometimes I think that I _need_ to cry."

"I'm not crying!" he growled like a wounded animal as he furiously wiped his eyes. "I'm just allergic to something, that's all!"

"You're not used to expressing your emotions, are you?" she said. "You keep them bottled up inside you until you burst. You don't like to feel do you?"

"Dammit, since when are _you_ such an expert on _emotions_?" Roger demanded.

"You don't talk about your feelings or even admit you have them," Dorothy continued. "I suppose I should be flattered. For all your disparaging comments, you seem to admire androids when the day is done." She paused and watched him as he struggled to pull himself together. "Why are you crying, Roger?"

"Because I'm helpless!" he roared. "Because I can't help you! Because now that I know what the girl I love has been through I know she's in pain and I can't do anything about it! I know she has to feel over six times as bad as I do! I worry about being a copy of someone else and bellyache because some crazy woman took a piece out of my head and still have no idea of the agony you must be in! There! You happy? You happy now? I want so badly to ease the pain and all I can do is make it worse! Okay? That's why I'm crying! Anything else?"

For a while all that could be heard was the sound of Roger's ragged breathing. If Norman was still in the kitchen he was being as quiet as a mouse. Dorothy kept a neutral expression on her face before she spoke again. "Did you just say that you love me?"

"We've been over this Dorothy," Roger groaned. "You and Norman are the only family I've got…"

"Did you refer to me as 'the girl you love?'"

"What?" Roger sneered. "What are you talking about?"

"You said you were upset that you couldn't help me," Dorothy explained. "Now that you know what the girl you love has been through, you know she's in pain and you can't do anything about it, even though she feels six times as bad as you do. Is that what you said?"

All the color drained from Roger's face. "I… I… I… I…"

"I'm not in as much pain as I was before Roger," she told him. "Perhaps you're not as helpless as you thought."

"I ah… gotta go see what Norman's up to," Roger said as he headed out the door.

"Norman is in the kitchen," Dorothy called after him. "You're going the wrong way, do you know that Roger? Roger?"

Even though he had left her alone, from a certain angle the girl seemed to be smiling.

* * *

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

_Next: Lady in Distress_


	4. Lady in Distress

_The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network._

THE BIG O:

ACT 34

OUR LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP

_Chapter Four: Lady in Distress_

Soon Roger found himself at the workingman's bar known as the Speakeasy but he wasn't asking the bearded old man he called 'Big Ear' for information. He was using him as a sounding board. He wasn't just drinking beer either, he was having bourbon. Nothing like a little liquid courage, and it didn't matter how much the booze loosened his tongue because he obviously couldn't control it, anyway!

"How could I be so stupid?" he asked Big Ear as he set his empty shot glass on the table with a loud 'thwack.' "What made me say that? 'The girl I love?' Why didn't I say 'someone I care about?' Where did 'the girl I love' come from?"

"I don't know Roger," the old man laughed into his newspaper. "_Do_ you love her?"

"Of course!" Roger moaned. "She's like a sister to me! But that doesn't mean that I'm _in love_ with her, does it?

"I don't know," the greybeard chuckled. "Does it?"

Roger pointed an accusing finger at the old man. "You know, you are enjoying this _way_ too much!"

"Perhaps you're enjoying this too little," Big Ear suggested.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"A lot of men would consider having a beautiful robot housemaid that's so devoted to you a godsend," the old man shrugged. "Heck, some fellows here would be mighty envious right now."

"Yeah, a lot of _dirty old men_!" Roger sneered. "I'm not so old that I need something off the wall to get me going just yet. Unlike _some of us_ in the room!"

The old man laughed and signaled the bartender. "Roger what you're feeling is perfectly natural," Big Ear assured him. "After what Jenny Grant did to you you're feeling vulnerable. It's only natural you'd turn to someone that you can trust absolutely."

"What are you talking about?" Roger protested. "Dorothy's an android! If anybody messes with her head she could be the end me like that!" He snapped his fingers for emphasis. "She's tried to kill me twice, and that's not including when her twin sister Red Destiny shot me!"

"And if nobody messes with her head she will never betray you," the old man rumbled as the bartender refilled their drinks. "She's an android Roger. Her loyalties aren't as fickle as a human's. I'll wager that she'll always be loyal and true. Besides you've been in combat with her. I don't need to tell you that when you've been in combat with someone, you get closer to them than you get to your own wife. Now if it was possible for that someone to actually _become_ your wife just imagine how close the two of you could get…"

"Nobody's getting married!" Roger snarled. "Hey! What are you laughing for? What's so funny?"

"I just find it ironic that out of all the women you've known, it's the one that's made of metal that's got you worked up like this," the old man smiled.

"She's not a woman, she's just a girl!" Roger insisted. "I don't know how long she's been active, but she can't have existed for more than two years."

"How do you know?" Big Ear shrugged. "For all you know she could have existed since before the Event that took our memories."

"I dunno," Roger snorted. "She seems awfully young to me. If she was older than she looked why would she ask me so many questions about emotions and what it's like to fall in love?"

"Perhaps she just wants to see if _you_ know," the old man smirked. "You can be kind of a cold fish sometimes. Perhaps she's asking questions to teach you what the softer emotions can offer you."

"Why did I even come here?" Roger shook his head. "In your dictionary, the word 'sympathy' must fall between 'slime' and 'syphilis!'"

"Sometimes it helps to vent," Big Ear shrugged. "I'm just playing devil's advocate."

"What am I going to do?" Roger moaned. "If I turn her down it will crush her, and if I take advantage it could destroy her! I can't do that! She's just a girl!"

"Why are you making such a big deal out of it?" the old man asked. "She's an android. As long as you keep her ignorant about human biology you shouldn't be asked to do more than hold hands."

"Yeah," Roger nodded as he drained his glass. "You're right. She's an android. What am I worrying about?"

"Unless of course you don't trust yourself," Big Ear added.

"What am I going to do?" Roger moaned as he covered his face with his hands. "I'm in a no-win situation here!"

"For starters I'd start by slowing down on the bourbon," the old man suggested. "You still have to drive home you know."

A lithe feminine form sauntered up to the table where the two men were sitting. "Hello Mister Negotiator."

"Jenny Grant!" Roger cried as he lunged out of his chair and seized her wrists. "Get away from me!"

"Roger!" the girl hissed as she struggled with him. "It's me! Angel! Have you lost your mind?"

"Angel?" He rubbed his eyes and looked at her. How much had he been drinking? How could he mistake the bodacious bombshell for Jenny Grant? Angel's body was so curvy it could give an architect a seizure, while Jenny was slender and petite like Dorothy. Even through his drunken haze he should have recognized her. "Is that you? What are you doing in that wig?"

"I'm trying to be discreet!" the beautiful young woman whispered tersely. "Keep your voice down! I think I'm being followed! Oh my gawd, how much have you been drinking?"

"Followed?" Roger muttered. "Who by?"

"How should I know?" she hissed as she pushed some stray golden locks back underneath her brunette wig. "The way I see it, I'm either being followed by agents from the Union or by Paradigm. I need your help!"

"Sure," Roger grimaced as he pressed his thumb against the space between his eyes and swayed uneasily on his feet. "My help. Got it. What can I do for you?"

"Until you sober up, probably nothing!" Angel announced in a louder voice. "Honestly Roger, what happened to you? I can't believe that I looked up to you!" She pushed him back into his chair for emphasis.

"I'm going through something," he said lamely.

"So is everybody else!"

"Yeah…"

"I'll catch you later when you're sober," Angel huffed. "I didn't want to visit you at your home because I'm afraid they're watching it. Get well soon, Roger, before something happens to me."

"Smooth," Big Ear murmured as the disguised beauty lost herself in the crowd.

"Yeah," Roger muttered. "I thought it was _okay_ for a guy to get drunk in a bar."

"Fooled you," the old man smirked.

"Yep," Roger nodded before they burst into a fit of laughter. "Ooh I'm being silly," he gasped. "She's right. I'm no good to anybody like this. I better get home before I make a bigger idiot out of myself."

"Take care," Big Ear saluted him with his glass as the drunken negotiator staggered to his feet.

The bar was a blur as Roger made his way to the door. Why was he acting like this? Why was he being so judgmental on himself? He consoled himself by deciding that being wracked with guilt over the temptation of becoming a robopedophile was better than being haunted by visions of burning books, melting clocks, bald children and barcodes but not by much. Angel was right. Everybody in this town was going through something. Roger wasn't special. So why couldn't he handle it? He was the pilot of the black megadeus dammit!

As he activated the remote for his car he heard a commotion just a few car lengths down the street. "Get your hands off me!" a woman's voice screamed. "Help! Somebody help me!"

Could that be Angel? What had she said back in the bar? Something about being followed? She wasn't kidding! It looked like now they were making their move!

"I'm coming!" Roger called as he removed his tie before he jogged over to an alley where two men were dragging a woman out to the curb where a 1950's VW barndoor panel van was waiting with its cargo door open. It wasn't Angel, not unless she changed clothes and lost some weight. It hardly mattered because whoever she was she was still in trouble! "Hang on! Oough!"

A third guy, bigger than the other two, came out of the alley and knocked Roger to the ground. Roger rolled to his feet and saw his opponent sizing him up. He wasn't blindly attacking or telling him to stay out of this. He was looking at Roger as if he was preparing for a fight. The guy was four inches taller than Roger, bald with a neat goatee, with a bulky build that looked like it was all muscle. He raised his arms in the stance of a professional boxer and Roger did the same.

When his opponent attacked with a right handed punch, Roger blocked with his left arm, but kept his arm moving as he stepped in forward to jab at the man's eyes. This guy was a professional though, for despite the near incapacitating pain he managed he attempted a wild haymaker punch to take Roger out of the fight. Roger blocked by seizing his opponent's arm during the windup and followed up with a punch to the face, closing the distance before his foe could complete his strike. The big guy didn't go down, so Roger struck him in the chin with his left elbow and concluded by bringing his right knee up to his enemy's groin.

Incredibly, the bearded man still refused to fall down, so Roger followed with lightning fast one-two punches to the jaw, ribs, and solar plexus. He finished up by leaping into the air and kicking his foe's solar plexus causing him to sail backwards to the two hoodlums and their victim.

Roger heard a shriek as the lady and one of her kidnappers went down under the larger man's weight, but one of the crooks managed to dodge his burly cohort and lunge forward to seize Roger's throat! Roger threw his weight to his left side while bringing his right arm up and over his strangler's. While his right arm pushed his choker's arms away, Roger's left hand twisted his strangler's right hand into a lock. Roger managed to strike his choker in the face with his right elbow before he managed to kick him in the face and the groin.

Roger stepped over the prone body of the man who tried to strangle him as he dashed to the large bearded man he had struck down earlier. Dazed, the bearded boxer was trying to sit up so Roger kicked him in the face until he lay back down. The kidnapper the boxer had collided with was getting to his feet so Roger seized him by the lapels of his jacket and punched him in the face with quick repeated jabs before ending with a straight cross.

Roger gasped for breath as he released the last kidnapper to let him fall to the ground. With all the adrenaline going through his system he was almost sober! He reached down to help the woman to her feet. "Are you okay, miss?"

"Just peachy!" a familiar face smiled at him.

"Jenny Grant!" Roger jumped a step back.

"My hero!" she grinned as she sprayed a miniature aerosol can at him. "Here you go! Breathe deep handsome!"

"Ah!" Roger gasped as a pink mist billowed over his face. His eyes rolled back, he staggered and pitched forward tackling Jenny on his way down.

"Eek!" Jenny said as she was covered in Roger Smith. "Get him off me, you idiots! I can't breathe under here!"

Meaty hands seized Roger by the shoulders before pulling him into the van.

"Whew!" Jenny Grant wheezed. "Thanks boys, sorry for snapping like that! Okay, we got him. Let's get out of here!" she said as she was helped to her feet. Following the burly henchmen, she got into the van before the cargo was slid shut.

As the van drove away, the door to the Speakeasy opened and a statuesque woman wearing a dark wig stepped out to the sidewalk. "Roger?" she said as she trotted over to a long black Cadillac parked on the curb. She dashed to the driver's side and tapped on the window. "Roger? Can you… Nobody's in there!"

The woman brushed the locks of dark hair out of her eyes to reveal the lovely face of the mysterious blonde bombshell known as Angel. She looked up and down the street while her lovely features contorted in a frown. "He never parks here without activating the armor, so why does the Gryphon look like a car instead of a big black box?" she muttered to herself. "Is he so drunk that he passed out in an alley?"

She noticed the city's homeless squatting on the street so she walked over to one with a begging bowl. "Hey," she said as she brandished a ten dollar bill. "There's a sawbuck in it for you if can tell me what happened to the guy who owns that car!"

"Sure lady," the beggar said as he took the money out of her hand. "He got in a fight with some guys and then was shoved into a green van."

"Shoved into a green van?" Angel gasped. "Did you see who he was fighting with? Did you get the license number?"

"There was a woman with them," the beggar shrugged. "She sprayed something in his face and he collapsed. That was after he beat up three guys. Darndest thing I ever saw!"

"Omigod!" Angel gasped. "Roger's been kidnapped!"

* * *

Roger's world was a dense fog. "Wake up darling," Jenny's voice called.

"Unnh," Roger groaned as his eyes fluttered open. "Not so loud…"

"It's not so funny when _I_ wake _you_ up from _your_ hangover, is it handsome?" Jenny said with a predatory smile.

"What?" Roger was wide awake now. "Wha?" His eyes darted up, down, left, and right. He was lying on a bed with his arms and legs spread like he was doing a jumping jack. Each wrist and ankle was tied to a separate bedpost. "Where am I? What have you done to me?"

"I've just taken you away to a place where you can relax for a while," the slender brunette assured him, "a place where you can lie down and take it easy."

"Get me out of this! You let me go right now!" Roger stopped shouting and sucked in a breath while studying Jenny Grant. She was in a green button down blouse with sleeves but both it and her knee high dress were obscured by the frilly cooking apron she was wearing. He glanced behind her to notice pictures arranged on a desk, pictures of the two of them together. His expression went from anger to cold naked fear. "I swear I'll never drink again," he whispered.

"Like them?" Jenny sauntered over to the desk and picked up a photo. "Here's our wedding picture. It will have to do until we get a real one taken."

"That's not our picture!" Roger protested. "That's somebody else's wedding picture with our heads placed on other people's bodies!"

"Didn't you hear me say that it will have to do until we get a real one taken?" she shook her head. "You're such a bad listener. Look, they did a real good job too. It really looks like we're really there, doesn't it? They even managed to touch up the shadows." She set the picture back on the desk and picked up another one and went back to the bed. "What do you think of this one?"

"That's not you!" Roger shuddered. "That picture was taken when Dorothy and I went to Rosterman's to celebrate our anniversary. One of those photographers took a candid picture of us and offered to sell it to us! You just pasted your head over Dorothy's to take her place!"

"Roger darling, that really hurts," the deranged woman scolded. "Look how much trouble I went through to fit seamlessly into the picture. I had to get my picture taken while wearing something with the same neckline in order to make it work." She examined the photo and smiled. "I'm really proud of this one. It really looks like I'm there. Your little friend and I have the same general build and coloring. It really looks like me! Doesn't it?"

"Let me go," Roger ordered. "I'm not playing this game, Jenny! I—"

His demand was cut short when Jenny Grant slapped his face. She seized his chin and held the picture less than a foot from his face. "I said '_It really looks like me_! _Doesn't it_?'"

Roger's eyes bulged as the color drained from his face. "Uh… yeah Jenny!" he nodded. "It really looks like you!"

"Thanks, I'm rather proud of this one," she smiled at the picture again before placing it back on the desk. "I had some others made, but they really didn't come out right. One makes it look like our necks are broken. These are the two I'm proud of. They sure look real, don't they?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "They look real. Jenny? What do you want?"

Jenny turned back to him in melodramatic innocence. "What do I _want_?" she asked in mock surprise. "I should think that should be obvious, Roger! I want what every woman wants! A good man, a nice home, beautiful children and the secret to eternal youth! What woman wouldn't want those things?"

"Secret to eternal youth?" Roger repeated. "I don't have that!"

"Yes you do; in those nanobots, those little robots that repair your cells," she said condescendingly. "You remember. I discovered those little guys the last time you were my guest."

"You're crazy!"

"I'm not crazy! I've been tested!" she snarled. "Don't call me crazy! Don't ever call me crazy! That drives me crazy! You're just like my brother!" she growled as she pointed an accusing finger at her captive. "Always stealing my things and wearing my clothes!" She stopped her rant, suddenly self-conscious. "I'm sorry what were we talking about?"

"Did you just say that the late Eugene Grant wore your clothes?"

"No," she shook her head guiltily. "I didn't."

"That's right," a horrified Roger agreed. "You didn't."

"Family," she giggled nervously. "What _are_ you going to do? Nobody can push your buttons like they can, huh? He always used to tell me I was crazy when _he_ was the one who was the kook. Funny how family can always get to you, huh?"

"Yeah," Roger nodded. "Hilarious."

"That's right, hilarious." Somehow her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Well I'm out of the mood right now Roger dear, so I guess I better get back to work. But don't worry." She pointed to a camera that was placed on a tripod in the corner of the room. "I've got a camera on you so I can keep an eye on you in case you need me. I've got a microphone hidden in here too, so if you need anything just call. I'll be back this evening so we can get to know each other better then." She pulled a tiny aerosol can the size of a tube of lipstick out of her apron pocket and sprayed him in the face with it. "In the meantime, it's time for your nap. Breathe deeply handsome. Nighty-night."

* * *

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

_Next: Thank You for Volunteering_


	5. Thank You for Volunteering

_The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network._

THE BIG O:

ACT 34

OUR LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP

_Chapter Five: Thank You for Volunteering_

Back at the Smith Mansion, Norman was on the phone. "Yes sir, I'll inform Master Roger of your call as soon as he returns home." He paused to listen to the caller on the other side. "No I don't know where he is or when he'll be home. But don't worry; I'm sure he'll be home soon. Yes sir. Goodbye."

"Who was that Norman?" Dorothy asked after he hung up.

"That was a representative of the Paradigm Corporation," the old man told her. "It seems that Lester Young, the new chairman of the Paradigm Corporation wishes to meet with Master Roger. How interesting. What do you suppose he wants?"

"I can't imagine," the melancholy android admitted in her flat stilted voice. "I wasn't aware that Roger accepted jobs from the Paradigm Corporation anymore."

"I wasn't either," Norman admitted. "Perhaps now that most of the supporters for the 'New Order' have been eliminated Master Roger would like to discover what kind of leadership has replaced it."

A buzzing sound from a flashing sconce on the wall drew the old man's attention. "Ah, that would be Master Roger returning home," Norman said with a hint of triumph. "I suppose now we shall see how he'll react to this new development."

Dorothy and Norman were in for a bit of a surprise, when less than five minutes later the elevator opened to reveal Angel. The girl wasn't dressed like they remembered. She wore a black wig and wore a long black coat that almost completely covered her body. There was not a hint of pink anywhere, and pink was the blonde's favorite color.

"Miss Angel?" Norman asked. Could this be a sister?

"Hello Norman," she nodded. "Dorothy."

"Did you drive the Gryphon here?" the elderly butler asked her.

"Yes."

"The security on the car is quite… formidable," the old man admitted.

"Thank you Norman," the disguised blonde smiled.

"What brings you here in Roger's car?" Dorothy interrupted. "Has something happened?"

"I'm afraid so," Angel sighed as she pulled the dark wig off and teased her lovely blonde hair back into shape. "Talk about weird. Usually _he's_ the one who's aiding those in need of rescue."

"What has happened?" the redhead asked.

"It looks like he's been kidnapped," Angel sighed.

"Who has?" Dorothy queried in her quiet voice.

"Roger Smith."

"By who?"

"I don't know."

"It's true that Roger should be back by now," Dorothy admitted as she walked up to Angel, "but what makes you so sure he's been kidnapped?"

"Some winos outside the Speakeasy saw it happen," Angel said as she pulled the dark wig off her head and pulled the hairpins out of her blonde hair. "When I searched the sidewalk I found this." She held out a gloved hand and when she opened it Roger's black tie with the grey stripe rolled out like a pennant.

"Good Heavens!" Norman exclaimed.

"I couldn't go to the military police because I'm still a wanted woman," the blonde explained. "I was afraid to call in case Paradigm had your phone tapped so I drove Roger's car and came in person. We've got to find him, and quickly. I heard that if you don't get a kidnap victim back within twelve hours, the odds are that you're never going to get them back alive!"

"Oh my," Norman clucked. "What shall we do?"

"You can start by telling me who might want to kidnap him," Angel said. "I know with Roger the list is pretty long but has he made any enemies recently?"

"Jason Beck is still at large," Dorothy offered. "There's the Paradigm Corporation and of course the people _you_ were working for. But the most recent person to take him prisoner was Jenny Grant."

"Jenny Grant?" Angel frowned. "Wait. Are you talking about Eugene Grant's kid sister? That mob boss Zeke Crater's girlfriend?"

"Your information is a little out of date," Dorothy corrected. "Zeke Crater and Jenny Grant broke up over three months ago. When Zeke Crater kidnapped me Roger was forced to bring Jenny Grant to him. Apparently Crater wanted to kill Jenny Grant."

"Roger had to bring Jenny Grant to Zeke Crater?" Angel repeated in disbelief. "I thought that Grant had _captured_ Roger?"

"I didn't say that Roger found it easy," the android admitted. "Just this morning Roger got a call that upset him. He said it was Jenny Grant who called. It's possible that she wanted to see Roger again."

"You don't understand!" gasped a horrified Angel. "Jenny Grant may look harmless but she's a real kook! She's every bit the mad scientist her brother was! She could do _anything_ to Roger!"

"I understand," Dorothy said. "Roger was deeply disturbed by the time he spent in her clutches. It seems that she doesn't want to let him go."

"We've got to call the military police," Norman decided. "Miss Angel, if you can't talk to them, tell me everything you know and I will relay it to them. If we want Master Roger found in time we're going to need more manpower!"

"I know where I can find some more information," Angel said, "but I'm afraid to go there by myself. I'm being followed. I might need some backup if I'm going to get there in one piece."

"Very well Miss Angel," Norman said. "You can relay your information to Miss Dorothy. I'll get my coat and meet you…"

Angel cut him off. "You don't understand. The location's a secret. If I want to take anyone with me it had better be Dorothy."

"_Dorothy_, Miss Angel?" Norman turned his head to look at the little android.

"Yes, Dorothy," Angel nodded. "She's the only one I trust to keep a secret. If I tell her to keep quiet about it, she will."

"How do you know I can keep your secret?" Dorothy asked her.

"Because if you blab about it, you'll only put yourself and Roger in danger," Angel replied. "Come on, get your coat. Time's a wastin'."

* * *

Meanwhile in her secret lab Jenny Grant was talking to an elderly man who was strapped to a chair underneath a massive apparatus that appeared to be a hairdryer that stuck needles into the man's scalp. If there had been two of them it would have looked like a brain-switch machine. Jenny was in a lab coat, was wearing glasses and was reading from a file. "Let's see. Herman Jenkins age seventy something, right? You need a new kidney and can't find an organ donor. Your life expectancy is a matter of weeks. Well thank you for volunteering for this risky experiment. Well, I really mean 'thank you for being so susceptible to the mind control drug' but I'm sure you know what I mean. Now I feel that it's only fair to warn you that this experiment contains some risks, but that's why I had you sign these waivers in case something goes wrong."

She took her glasses off. "Now I'll be honest with you. Your health is so bad that's unlikely that you'll survive the cerebral stimulation. But it's necessary if we want to recover the memories that you lost forty years ago. You're only going to be with us for a little while so it's imperative that we recover what you can give us before you go. You want your life to have meaning don't you? Attaboy!"

She looked over her shoulder at a technician operating a control panel behind her. "Okay, give it some power. Be very careful, we don't want to kill him before we can extract his memories." As the machinery hummed to life she put her spectacles back on to look at her test subject. "What secrets are hidden even from you, Mister Jenkins? What lost technology? What lost history? With the right stimulation, can you remember what happened forty years ago? What secrets …"

"Arrrrrgh!"

Bright light flashed as Jenny's eyes widened in horror. Her large, heavily mascaraed eyes narrowed as she pursed her lips. "Perhaps a _gnat's wing_ less power than that?" she suggested as she gestured with her thumb and forefinger. Sighing in disappointment she glanced at the life support monitor. "He's dead. What a pity. Sometimes I wish I'd never found this infernal machine." She called out and waved to some assistants hidden in the darkness behind her. "Oh boys…! Put Mister Jenkins in the soylent green program. It's alright. He signed the waiver. Lots of food shortages out there you know."

She wrote some notes in Herman Jenkins' medical file before handing it to an assistant and receiving a new one. She paged through the new file. "Let's see… Gertrude Stuart is it? Your estimated age is in your sixties? You've got terminal cancer of the lungs right? Well those cigarettes were bound to catch up to you sooner or later weren't they? Thank you for volunteering for this risky experiment. Of course, I_ really_ mean 'thank you for being so susceptible to the mind control drug' but you know what I mean. Now I feel that it's only fair to warn you that this experiment contains some risks…"

* * *

On the other side of town Roger's long black Cadillac was cruising through a district of dilapidated skyscrapers. The state of disrepair of the buildings was staggering. Entire blocks were devastated and the car had to maneuver around the wreckage of collapsed structures.

Inside the mysterious woman known as Angel was driving the car while Dorothy sat in the passenger seat. "Roger wouldn't like you driving his car," Dorothy said.

"Roger will understand," Angel replied. "We're using it to rescue him, after all."

"How did you get his keys?"

"I found them on the sidewalk near his tie," the athletic blonde told her. "He must have dropped them in the struggle. Okay, we'll stop here. I don't want to park right in front of our destination or else we'll make it easy for anybody tailing us."

The car parked at a section of the curb unblocked by debris. When the two women got out, they wore long capes with hoods to obscure their features. Dorothy thought the cowls hindered their peripheral vision but didn't say anything. Angel activated the car's armor after they got out.

"Follow me," Angel instructed. "Don't make eye contact with anyone."

Dorothy followed her down the street, passing the homeless and the recently homeless as they did so. Finally they walked down a subway entrance that was almost completely blocked by rubble. The barrette in Dorothy's hair slid out to reveal a halogen lamp hidden in a cavity in her head. Angel pulled a more conventional flashlight out of her coat and the duo made their way into the tunnels picking their way past debris.

"Have you ever been down here?" Angel asked.

"Once before, when Roger was tracking down Schwartzwald," Dorothy replied.

"Roger took you with him?" Angel raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"No," the android admitted. "I followed him after he said that had to confront the darkness within him. I think he was looking for his past, even before Ellen Waite and the others who possessed the original senators' Memories were murdered."

"And why did you do that?" Angel smiled knowingly.

"You know why."

"I sure do," the blonde sighed. "You know you're really a lucky girl Dorothy. You get to live on the surface and you get to live with the man you love, and who loves you back. Life may have dealt you some low blows, but at least you got compensated for your troubles…"

"Do you think that Roger knows how to love?"

"They didn't call him 'the Negotiator' for nothing," Angel smirked.

"No, I mean do you think that Roger knows how to be _in love_," the redhead clarified. "Do you think he knows how to be in a committed relationship with someone he truly cares about?"

"Does any man?" Angel grunted.

"I don't know," Dorothy said. "I was asking you."

"Dorothy, if you find me a man who knows how to be in a committed relationship with someone he truly loves I'll show you a man who isn't human."

"Do androids know how to be in committed relationships better than humans then?"

"_You_ tell _me_."

"I can't speak for other androids," Dorothy said. "I can only speak for myself."

"Do you love Roger?"

"I don't know how to be in a relationship with him," the girl explained. "And I don't think Roger knows either. If I want our relationship to change, one of us is going to have to show the other how."

"You could always leave him," the blonde smirked grimly.

"I could never do that," Dorothy said, "not unless it was the only way to save him."

"Plenty of other fellas out there, you know," Angel teased.

"I suspect that Roger Smiths are in short supply."

"Yeah," Angel sighed. "They are. Okay, we're here. Can you keep a secret?"

"If I couldn't you wouldn't have brought me down here."

"Okay, well here comes a doozy," Angel climbed up on a subway platform and walked to the back wall. She pressed a hidden panel and part of the wall slid away to reveal elevator doors. The blonde bent over to place her eye before a sensor and the elevator doors slid open. "Come on. We're going to a secret even bigger than the megadeuses."

"What secret is that?"

"I'm taking you to the storehouse of lost Memories."

* * *

"Wake up sweetie," Jenny's voice called. "It's time for dinner."

"Unh," Roger groaned as the world came back to him a piece at a time. He was sitting up and when he tried to move he discovered that each of his wrists was tied to the arms of the chair. As soon as the room stopped spinning he opened his eyes to see that he was sitting at the end of a table in an elegantly furnished room. An elegantly furnished room with no windows. "Where am I?"

"Hello darling, it's time to eat!" Jenny said brightly. She was dressed in her 'housewife style' blouse and skirt again with a pink frilly apron covering her. "I had a terrible day at the office. So far the experiment is a complete dud, but we got to keep cracking if we want to recover lost Memories. In the meantime I'm coming out with a food concentrate to feed the starving masses until the food shortages are over. It'll help fund my research. Here try it. I call it 'soylent green.'" She offered him a pressed green rectangle stuck to the end of a fork.

"What is it?"

"It's not people!" she said defensively.

"It's not _what_?"

"I mean it's soybeans, lentils and plankton," Jenny corrected hastily. "Soy. Lent. And plankton is Green. Get it? Soylent Green. I came up with the name myself!"

"Did you say that it wasn't _people_?" Roger asked her.

"No…" she cooed as she shook her head. "No-no-no-no! Of course not! I told you, it's made from soybeans, lentils and plankton!" She offered him the bite of soylent green again. "Now, we won't be eating this for dinner, but I'd like your opinion for a taste test while you're still hungry. Go ahead and try it. See what you think."

"You eat it first."

"What?" Jenny shuddered. "No way! Soylent green is made of people!"

"Did you just say that it's made from _people_?"

"Oh there you go being all judgmental again," Jenny huffed. "Go ahead and shout it from the rooftops why don't you? Soylent green is made of people! It's PEA…PULL…! Now _there's_ a way to undermine consumer demand, isn't it?"

"You're making your food concentrate out of _people_?" Roger shuddered.

"Only terminally ill people!" Jenny assured him. "People who are going to die anyway! If they can't be saved they might as well save the rest of us from starvation! It's only temporary, until the agricultural domes start producing again. It's not like the poor are going to have to eat people for the rest of their lives!"

"Did you say 'terminally ill' people?" Roger gasped. "Does that mean that you're murdering them to turn them into _food_?"

"Well what do you expect me to do?" Jenny asked defensively. "Feed the starving masses a food concentrate made out of people who have been _dead for a while_? Who would eat that? You've got to admit Roger, that's just _gross_!"

"You're murdering people so you can sell them as food!"

"Don't be silly!" Jenny frowned. "They're dying during the course of my experiments, of course! They can't handle the neural stimulation to their brains and they burn out like light bulbs! I've got to find a safe way to extract suppressed Memories before all the old people die off and that knowledge is lost forever! Otherwise we'll be stuck in this Dark Age! I can't help it if those poor old dears are so fragile."

"You're murdering people for their Memories!"

"I don't want to murder anybody at all!" Jenny shook her head and made defensive gestures. "Please Roger! You've got to understand! I've got to find a way to make it safe before I put _you_ under and—"

"PUT _ME_ UNDER!" Roger bellowed as he struggled against his bonds. "You mean _I'm_ next? Let me go! Don't do it! Get me out of here!" he screamed frantically.

"I'm sorry," Jenny shook her head again. "You weren't supposed to hear that. Tell you what, let's start again and see if we can make dinner more pleasant, shall we?" Before Roger could hold his breath, she sprayed a pinkish gas in his face.

* * *

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

_Next: You're Not Supposed to Know That_


	6. You're Not Supposed to Know That

_The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network._

THE BIG O:

ACT 34

OUR LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP

_Chapter Six: You're Not Supposed to Know That_

"Wake up Roger," Jenny said as she sprayed a blue mist at his face. "It's time to eat. I made dinner."

"Ah!" Roger shuddered as his nostrils burned with whatever she used to wake him up. His eyes stung too much to open them just yet so he tried to move. No dice. His wrists were still tied to the arms of his chair and his ankles were tied to the front legs. "Get me out of here!"

He opened his eyes to see that the table was covered by a white table cloth. A napkin, silverware and an assortment of china plates covered with metal lids were placed before him. Two long stemmed glasses were filled with white wine while a bottle of chardonnay rested nearby. Jenny was wearing a white ivory evening gown with diamond earrings and a pearl necklace. Her short curly hair was teased, her large eyes had too much mascara, her lips were covered in blood red lipstick and she had applied a hint of blush to her egg white cheeks. Roger looked down to see that he seemed to be wearing a tuxedo. This was going to be a long night.

"Today we're having a seafood platter," Jenny announced as she waved a fork like a magic wand over a small plate filled with half-shelled oysters. "I know you wanted to have steak but with all the shortages it just wasn't possible. Now I know you've had a rough day so let's start with an appetizer. I put a lot of work into this meal and I want us to have a good time."

"Oysters?" Roger snorted. "We're not even goin' there! Knock this off Jenny! I don't want to play anym—! Ow!"

Before he could finish, she leaped out of her chair, seized his scalp stabbed him in the cheek with her fork. She held the red tinted tines of the fork less than three inches from his eyes and announced in a shrill, demanding voice. "I said that _I put a lot of work into this meal and I want us to have a good time_!" Her voice then changed to menacing calm. "Do you understand, Roger?"

Roger nodded as best he could with Jenny clutching his hair. "Y-yeah, I think so."

"Good," she whispered in a low husky voice as she released him and sat back down in her chair. "You know, men are like fine wine," she said as she picked up her glass and took a sip. "They all start out like grapes, and it's the women's job to stomp on them and keep them in the dark until they mature into something we'd like to have dinner with. Now let's eat. Let's start with an appetizer." She stabbed an oyster with her fork and offered it to him. "Open wide and eat up."

"You're not evening going to clean the fork first?" asked a horrified Roger.

Jenny put the fork into her mouth and drew it out slowly while giving Roger a cold stare. She chewed the oyster while she stabbed another one. She swallowed and said, "Open wide."

Roger gulped.

* * *

Back on the surface of Paradigm City in the white tower that Roger made his home, Norman was receiving visitors. "Colonel Dastun, thank goodness you've come," the old man greeted. "Come in. Come in. We received an anonymous call that told us that Master Roger had been kidnapped. Do come this way and make yourself comfortable. I'll get some refreshments for you and your men."

Colonel Dan Dastun was a grizzled veteran in his fifties who sported muttonchops and a thick horseshoe mustache. When he took his hat off he revealed that he was bald and that a network of scars marred the right side of his dome. "When was the last time you saw him Norman?" he asked as he and three other officers made entered a large sitting room.

"It was at lunch sir," Norman admitted. "He took off abruptly in the middle of his meal and went to the Speakeasy, a drinking establishment not far from here. He was accosted by three ruffians on his way back to his car and a woman sprayed some kind of chemical in his face that rendered him unconscious."

"That's quite an anonymous tip," Dastun said with a hint of skepticism. "You sure that you don't know who your source was?"

"Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that my source of information wished to remain anonymous," Norman admitted. "I wish I could tell you, but if I do that none of Master Roger's contacts will inform me when he is in trouble."

"In other words, whoever the witness was probably was engaged in something illegal," Dastun sighed. "Look I understand if your source doesn't want any involvement with the Military Police. I've just got to talk to them so I can get a description, that's all. Any details I can get will be helpful."

"My source of information suggested that the woman involved in Master Roger's abduction could possibly be a lady known as Jenny Grant."

"Jenny Grant?" Dastun repeated. "The missing mob boss Zeke Crater's girl? Where did you get that name?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say," Norman apologized. "My source simply said that it was likely she was involved. She wasn't even positively identified."

"That's as weak as watered down gin," Dastun groaned. "Okay, I'll stay here in case the kidnappers try to contact you. In the meantime I'll send some investigators out to the Speakeasy to ask the locals if they saw anything. While I'm at it, I'll put out a BOLO, that's a Be On the Look Out, for Roger's car."

"Oh dear," Norman paled. Angel was driving Master Roger's car, and as far as anyone knew was still wanted for espionage. And Miss Dorothy was with her and could be charged for aiding and abetting a fugitive. He hoped that summoning more manpower to search for Master Roger was worth the risk.

* * *

In the meantime, Dorothy and Angel were in an elevator. As the car sank, a counter on the wall counted up to three digit numbers. Currently the counter was up to six hundred and showed no signs of stopping.

"The first elevator dropped us in a maze of corridors before we entered this one," Dorothy observed. "This elevator started on the floor the last one dropped us at. Floor five hundred. How much further down does it go?"

"Down to sublevel six hundred and sixty-six," Angel told her. A chime rang as the door slid open. "Ah, that's our floor."

When the girls exited the elevator, Dorothy saw that the floor was a glowing grid. As Angel walked to the far side of the darkened room, streams of white light shot out of the walls to hit her back and create the image of glowing wings. The illusion was intensified when the beams of light broke into ghostly white pulses that made it seem as if her wings were disintegrating into a shower of ghostly white feathers.

Dorothy stopped in her tracks and stared at Angel as she walked over to a bank of television screens on the far wall. "What was that?" she asked. "Is it some kind of security system? Will the consoles not operate unless holographic sensor beams detect receptors implanted in your back? Is that how the computer protects the Memories down here?"

Angel didn't respond, but sat in a chair facing a control panel and a wall covered in television screens that displayed various locations in Paradigm City. Dorothy walked forward and peered at the blonde's face. "Are you crying?"

"I always cry when I first sit down here," said a miserable Angel. "It reminds me of the first time I came here and learned the Truth… The Truth of what happened forty years ago."

"What happened forty years ago?"

"I don't remember; I took your advice," the blonde smiled weakly. "Remember when I stayed at Roger's house after Schwartzwald tried to kill me? You told me to find out how everybody lost their memories and make myself forget. Well I took your advice." She looked back at the monitor screens and shuddered. "I must have found out the Truth about eight times before I gave myself a posthypnotic suggestion to stop looking. You can't possibly know the temptation, being so close to learning something that you used to know and knowing that you mustn't! It drove me crazy!"

"Is it really that terrible?" the android asked.

"I only know that when I knew what happened to the world forty years I knew there was no point going on," Angel said with a hint of finality. "I'm glad I don't know now. I couldn't live with that knowledge! Sometimes ignorance is bliss; you know what I'm saying?"

"Yes," Dorothy agreed. "I understand. Roger was quite happy believing that he had merely found the Big O and that he could give it up anytime he wanted to. He doesn't know that he and Big O are one."

"He's the only original domineus left," Angel sighed.

"Did you say 'domineus?'" Dorothy asked. "Roger told me once that only his enemies used that word. Why do you call him a 'domineus?'"

"What?" Angel gasped. "You don't know what a domineus is?"

"I only know that whoever uses that word isn't one of Roger's friends."

"A domineus is someone who's bonded with a megadeus," Angel explained. "The way you were talking I thought you already knew that!"

"I only know that Roger and the Big O are one," Dorothy said in her stilted melancholy voice. "When my central processing unit was connected to Big O's I was able to contact Roger's subconscious mind. The Memories, the personality, the hidden subconscious… I don't know what you call it but for Roger Smith and Big O they are the same. They are identical. Roger and the Big O are separate aspects of one being. It's as if a copy of Roger's personality were placed in Big O so that even if Roger woke up with total amnesia he would still be the same. It's as if Big O has an emergency backup of his soul."

"You're… not supposed to know that," Angel said sadly.

"I haven't told him," Dorothy assured her.

"Good girl," Angel smiled weakly. "All Roger needs to know is the life he's chosen for himself: That he's Paradigm City's top negotiator."

"Shouldn't Roger know who he truly is?"

"Don't be silly; of course not!" Angel gasped. "You know what kind of guy Roger is! It would kill him!"

"Roger may be stronger than you think."

"It was Roger who decided that he didn't need to know," Angel said sadly.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Never mind," Angel shook her head and turned back to the screens. "It's not important. I shouldn't have said anything. You know too much already. The less you know, the easier it will be for you to keep a secret."

Angel froze when Dorothy asked her next question. "What happened to the original Dorothy Wayneright?" When the blonde didn't answer the android continued her questioning. "Did she know a Roger Smith? Were they in love? Is she the one he lost and is that why Roger always wears black?"

"It's not important," Angel shook her head again. "Right now the important thing is that we've got to find Roger." She started typing. "Let's see. Jenny Grant." A screen displayed Jenny's face and the accompanying text gave information on her. "The child of Adam and Eve Grant. Took part in Gordon Rosewater's early Memory Transplant experiments at the age of eight. Exhibited incredible knowledge of genetics while at Paradigm University and wound up teaching her brother's class before she graduated. Worked for the Paradigm Group under the subsidiary…"

"I thought I heard the elevator," a weak shaky voice said as a door opened and a stout old man shambled into the room. "Ah, you're back my dear. And who is your little friend?"

"Gordon," Angel turned and smiled at him. "I see you're feeling better today. Do your recognize me? Do you know who I am?"

"What kind of question is that?" the old man sniffed. "I might be forgetting things but I still know who you are! And who is your young friend? She looks familiar somehow… You're Timothy's little girl aren't you? Doris?"

"Dorothy," the android corrected. She curtsied before him. "How do you do? Gordon Rosewater I presume. I don't believe we've met."

"Really?" the old man scratched his head. "I could have sworn we have… but my memory isn't what it used to be. Well I'm glad you made it my dear. I heard that you didn't. We should be safe here underground until the danger has passed."

"Danger?" Dorothy asked him. "What danger? Do you know what is after us?"

The old man put a gnarled finger to his lips. "It mustn't do to talk about it, my dear. Everyone must forget. They must forget or else they won't have the courage to go on. If humanity's been given the chance to exist it just won't do if we all go insane and kill ourselves now will it?"

"Why would we kill ourselves?"

The old man took her hand and patted it with fatherly affection. "Goodness, won't Roger be happy to see that you've made it! It almost destroyed him you know. For him you were the entire human race and everything he was fighting for. I was really afraid that he'd kill himself but once he heard that he could be free of his memories he decided to stick it out. Won't he be happy to see you again my dear! Even if he doesn't remember you I'm sure you two will find a way to make it work. It's the only way that mankind will go on, you know. Men and women will have to find a way to make it work, or there'll be no children!"

"Children?"

"So many homeless, so many orphans…" the old man mused as he abruptly became melancholy, "but don't worry. Those children will have a future! Or as much of a future as any of our wretched species will ever have! Let me tell you something. You don't have to worry about the skills and technical knowhow being lost forever. I've found a way to ensure that mankind will always have enough technical Memories to get by! Now that you've been recovered my dear, Roger can take his rightful place as ruler of his doomed people!"

"Roger?" the android repeated lifelessly. "A ruler? I don't understand."

"And it's probably better that you don't my dear," he patted her hand affectionately again. "Your job is just to keep him sane, to keep him from giving up! That's all you have to worry your pretty little head over. Leave the awesome responsibility to Roger Way— eh… what is he using as a last name again? I can't remember…"

"Smith," the android told him. "His name is Roger Smith."

"Oh!" the old man smiled childishly. "Smith! My goodness, that man has no imagination! Smith! Well I suppose it's appropriate. Smith. He's going to have to forge a new world out of what's left of the old. He'll have to build it all over again, make it with his own two hands. Yes, now that I think of it, I suppose that 'Smith' is a good enough name as any. And will you be Missus Smith?"

"I don't know."

"I suppose you're right," he whispered conspiratorially. "It's a long road ahead. Mustn't make plans too far ahead. You've got to harvest when the time is right."

"Mister Rosewater?" a second man stepped into the room, but to call him a 'man' was pushing it. "I thought I heard you in here. Miss Wayneright. What are _you_ doing here?"

"Inspector Fredrick O'Reilly," Dorothy said as she turned her head to see the only android serving in the Military Police Force. "I could ask you the same question."

R Frederick O'Reilly was dressed in black slacks, white gloves, a white dress shirt with a grey waistcoat and white cravat. His head appeared to be gas mask worn over a motorcycle helmet, for the speaker he used for a mouth dominated the lower part of the android's face. "Miss Wayneright, how did you get down here?"

"I invited her down here Freddy," Angel said from her chair in front of the screens. "Androids are the only people I can trust to keep a secret."

"But you can't trust just _any_ android Miss Angel," the android inspector insisted as he strode past Dorothy and Gordon to face the buxom blonde. "She's a security risk. Too many people are after her Memories as it is, and Paradigm has the technology to view her Memories as you well know. I myself viewed her Memories during the 'android crusher' case myself. Does she know what's at stake?"

"Inspector O' Reilly," Dorothy said quietly. "You aren't working for the Paradigm Board of Directors at all are you? Secretly you're an agent of Gordon Rosewater."

"That's right," Angel nodded. "Freddie's working for Gordon. He was always working for Gordon, even though Gordon can't remember what he told him to do anymore. The Paradigm Board of Directors may think he's working for them, but he's really working for me these days."

"Now that Mister Rosewater is too old to run things, he's left Angel minding the store," O'Reilly explained. The android clicked his heels and took Dorothy's hand while bowing. He was unable to kiss her hand for his mouth was just a bulky speaker. "Please forgive my earlier comments Miss Wayneright. I assure you that my concerns were for your safety as well as the Memories hidden here. If anyone knew that you had been down here your life wouldn't last five minutes."

"I understand," Dorothy said.

"Permit me to apologize by saying that it's an honor to have you on the team," O'Reilly continued. "I'm afraid that my post in the Military Police forces me to share my responsibilities caring for Mister Rosewater with other androids. As one android to another I must say that you are a splendid piece of work."

"Aw, does Freddy have a little crush on little Dorothy?" Angel teased.

"Miss Angel, I was created merely to execute missions," he insisted.

"It's all right, Freddy, like you, Dorothy is more human than she appears," Angel laughed. "Dorothy, if you decide to run off with Fred here, can I have Roger?"

"I thought you told me that my mission was to make him forget you," Dorothy said.

"Ouch. Touched a nerve did I?" Angel sighed as closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "I guess I deserved that. Let's find Roger and let _him_ decide who gets to keep him, shall we?"

* * *

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

_Next: Humor Me_


	7. Humor Me

_The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network._

THE BIG O:

ACT 34

OUR LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP

_Chapter Seven: Humor Me_

Six hundred and sixty-six floors underground the mysterious blonde bombshell known as Angel typed at a keyboard in front of a wall covered in televisions screens displaying locations all over Paradigm City. "Okay, we know Roger was at the Speakeasy and what time. Let's see what happened when he left. There aren't as many cameras hidden around the city like there used to be but I think I can still get a picture of him."

"After all of the damage Paradigm city has taken, I'm surprised there are any functioning cameras hidden at all," Dorothy said. "Does this mean that Paradigm City always had hidden cameras, all over the city?"

"It was set up before whatever happened forty years ago," Angel admitted. "A post hypnotic suggestion has been placed on all of the electricians who restore streetlights and electrical power to the buildings. Whenever a new building goes up or an old one is repaired, the hidden cameras and microphones are installed without anybody knowing why or even that they were installed in the first place."

"Is everybody in Paradigm City under surveillance and some sort of hypnotic suggestion?" the girlish android asked.

"Yeah," Angel nodded as her face lost some of its color. "Why else doesn't anybody go underground or go more than a hundred miles out of town? Why don't more people question what happened forty years ago, and why can't anybody remember in the first place? How come we all know how to read and write and operate machinery when schools only started being taught thirty years ago? Yeah. That's right. The entire human race has been conditioned to accept the world as they see it. Schwartzwald was right. Go figure."

"What happens when that technology is misused?"

"You know what happens," Angel smiled grimly. "I notice that you said 'when' and not 'if.' I'd have the whole thing dismantled if it wasn't necessary."

"Why is it necessary?" the android asked.

"Because everyone would go insane if they saw the world as it is," Angel sighed.

R Fredrick O'Reilly chose that moment to cut in. "Miss Angel I must protest. This information is not to be shared with anyone. Although I'm confident that Miss Wayneright would ever willingly divulge what you've told her the less she knows the better. For her own safety as much as anyone else's."

"You're right Freddy," Angel nodded in surrender. "Seems like you're always right," she grumbled. "Dorothy it's better you don't know anything at all. The Memories in your head that allow a megadeus to function are more than enough to make you a target. Do you really need any _more_ trouble?"

"Is it necessary for Roger to forget?" Dorothy asked. "As the pilot of the Big O, shouldn't he have the right to who he is?"

"For all I know, the mass amnesia was Roger's idea," the blonde muttered bitterly. "Okay, let's get back to it." One a screen in front of Angel's chair an image of Roger staggering outside the Speakeasy could be seen. "There's Roger. He's heard something. He looks and he sees two goons trying to get a woman into a van. A third kidnapper comes out of the alley. They get in a fight. Roger beats them up. Roger goes to help the woman... He's been sprayed with something! Just like a light, he's out. He falls unconscious…"

"Can you get a close up on the woman?" Dorothy asked.

"Will do," Angel hit some keys and the action reversed itself and froze. A close up of a smirking Jenny Grant appeared on another screen.

"That's Jenny Grant," Dorothy stated. "Over two weeks ago, Roger brought her to a warehouse in the harbor district in order to trade her for me. He told me later that Miss Grant had captured him and that he had escaped and abducted her in order to save me."

"Looks like she wants him back," Angel nodded. "Okay, I'll click on the van so we can follow it back to wherever she's taken him."

"Can you always find Roger?" Dorothy asked. "Are there hidden cameras in our house as well? Have you been watching us?"

"I told you that the less she knows the better," R Fredrick O'Reilly scolded.

"I'm tired of being indoors," Gordon Rosewater muttered as he lumbered to a door. "I want to go outside and grow my tomatoes. I don't need to run the city anymore. I've retired. I'm going outside. Someone else will have to harvest what I've sown."

"I better keep an eye on him," O'Reilly said as he followed Gordon out the door. "There's no telling where he might get off to. For such a feeble old man he's surprisingly quick."

"Angel, the things Mister Rosewater told me," Dorothy began before she paused. "The things that he said, does that mean that…"

"You can't read too much into what Gordon says these days," Angel assured her. "The poor guy's senile. Most of the time he can't even recognize me. Besides, he was never in the habit of giving a straight answer when he was younger, was he?"

* * *

Despite the elegance of the dinner table, Roger's nerves were wearing thin. Being tied to a chair by a madwoman and forced to take part in her domestic fantasies wasn't fun for anyone. "So, how did you enjoy the meal Roger?" Jenny asked lazily. "You haven't touched your dessert."

"I can't," Roger grumbled. "My wrists are tied to the chair."

"I'd like to apologize for applying the Taser but it looked like you were going to get loose," Jenny shrugged. "Still, we had a nice meal, didn't we?"

Roger grunted and looked away.

Jenny slapped him and grasped his chin to turn his head towards her. "I said _we had a nice meal, didn't we_?" she shrieked before resuming in a sympathetic voice. "Aw, I knocked the bandage right off your cheek. Well, you're not bleeding anymore; you probably don't need it."

Roger stared at her.

"Don't look at me in that tone of voice Roger," Jenny scolded. "You were the one who decided to come to my house out in the country and kidnap me. I didn't come to you. Face it. You asked for this."

"No I didn't!" Roger protested.

"Yes you did," Jenny shook her head and smiled sweetly, "but that's okay. If you hadn't been such a cad we never would have met. I require three things in a man: he must be handsome, ruthless, and stupid. And what do you know? You qualify on all counts." When he glared at her she shivered and continued. "Oh, you don't like it when the woman gets the upper hand do you Roger? You're used to the girl being helpless and doing whatever the man says don't you? Well so am I, but I thought it'd be fun to mix things up for a little while! It couldn't hurt could it?"

"Not unless I get free it won't," Roger growled.

"Oh, Roger…" Jenny sighed melodramatically. "It wouldn't kill you to humor me would it?" She smiled an evil grin. "It _might_ kill you if you don't, though!" she growled as she lunged and seized his chin again. "Tell you what, if you don't want to be my fiancé I understand," she murmured dangerously. "I can't _wait_ to move you to my lab anyway. Tell you what, why don't we cut off a finger and see how long it takes for you to grow it back?"

"Eh… so darling? How was your day?" Roger asked weakly.

"There," Jenny cooed as she ran her hand through his hair affectionately. "Was that so hard? After a hard day's work I'm entitled to my little fantasies, aren't I?" When Roger didn't respond she yanked on the back of his head and put the blade of his steak knife up to his throat. "I said _aren't I_?"

"Uh… Yeah…!" Roger grimaced with false glee. "A good fantasy life is healthy!"

"It is for _you_ Roger dear," she said before she gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "I want us to _enjoy _our time together. I want to be able to untie you, and let you tie _me _up if I ask you." She put an arm around his shoulder and leaned on him. "I want us to have a life together is that so bad?"

"Uh…"

"_Is that so bad_?" she repeated as her arm closed around his neck and she pointed the knife at his face.

"No…" Roger lied carefully. "All my friends have been telling me to find someone. This will be good for me!"

"See how much fun humoring me can be?" Jenny asked before kissing him on the cheek. "If you just relax, you might have a good time!"

Roger's smile was frozen and unnatural. "Sh-sure."

* * *

Six hundred and sixty-six floors beneath the city Angel opened a vault revealing an assortment of weapons. "Okay, choose your weapons," the blonde instructed Dorothy. "It would be nice if we could find some body armor for you too."

"Miss Angel, shouldn't we inform the Military Police?" Inspector O'Reilly asked. "I could always say that I got an anonymous tip."

"It wouldn't do any good Freddie," Angel shook her head. "If they bungle things Roger might be killed. The Military Police are 'Plan B.'"

"Then perhaps I should go with you," O'Reilly suggested. "As an android I am stronger and faster than a human."

"That won't work Freddie," Angel said as she loaded an automatic pistol. "We can't be seen on the surface together and you can't kill. Besides, I just came up with a plan and I need you for my exit strategy."

"You're taking Miss Wayneright," the faceless android nodded to Dorothy, who was examining the weapons and battle dress uniforms hung on the walls of the vault.

"She'll come in handy," Angel told him as she walked behind a changing screen.

"How so? She's an android and she hasn't been trained in combat," O'Reilly insisted. "As you pointed out, for an android to harm a human is against the fundamental laws governing android behavior."

"Don't worry about it," Dorothy said as she selected a baton and twirled it as if she was a cheerleader. "I'll do what is necessary."

"Let's just say with Roger in trouble I'll bet that R Dorothy can be a little more human than you can," Angel winked.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" O'Reilly asked.

"It's good," Angel said as she squatted behind the changing screen and stood up again. The sound of a zipper was heard and the blonde stepped out to reveal that she had changed into a formfitting pink battle dress uniform that resembled a catsuit with a zipper in the front extending from her neckline to her crotch. She went back into the vault and put on a collection of belts and straps called 'webgear' and started loading weapons and ammunition into various holsters and pockets.

"Miss Angel, Miss Wayneright is a noncombatant," O'Reilly scolded. "You're taking her into harm's way."

"I'm being hunted for my Memories," Dorothy said. "Since my Memories put me in constant danger, there is no point being overly cautious. With Roger missing I'm not likely to see tomorrow anyway. I have no choice but to get Roger back."

"Oh, Dorothy," Angel cooed softly. Without warning she embraced the little android. "You poor thing."

"Why did you do that?" Dorothy asked. "I don't understand."

"I know you don't like me, but I like you Dorothy," Angel said. "I'm in the same boat and I wish I could be as brave as you."

"You're braver than you think you are," Dorothy told her.

* * *

Elsewhere, Roger opened his eyes to find himself lying on the same four poster bed he did the first time he awoke to find himself in Jenny Grant's clutches. He wasn't in a tuxedo anymore. Now he was in a blue pair of pajamas and each of his limbs were again tied to the bedposts. "Oh boy," he groaned.

"Hello Roger darling," Jenny Grant smiled at him. She was clad in a diaphanous white nightgown that exposed her arms and featured a low neckline. "After a rough day it's nice to unwind and spend some quality time together don't you think? I think we should turn in early. It will allow us to reconnect as a couple and rekindle our relationship."

"We don't _have_ a relationship Jenny," Roger growled. "We're not a couple!"

"We could be," Jenny pouted before grinning evilly. "If we aren't I guess that makes me the scientist and you the guinea pig!" Her expression went from menacing to playful and flirtatious. "Wouldn't you rather we were a couple? What do you think of my nightie sweetie-pie?" she asked as she held the skirt and did a little twirl. "I think this is nice combination of wholesome and sexy, don't you? And when I stand in front of the light you can see right through it!"

"White's not my color," Roger grumbled. "I prefer black."

"Black, huh?" Jenny's large eyes widened and she made a face to hide her smile. "Why Roger darling, I've only got one thing that's _black_. Are you sure you want me to wear it on our first night?"

"Sure," Roger nodded. Anything to put off the inevitable he thought. "Yeah. Go change into that. Knock yourself out."

"Oh. Kay…" she sang in a high uncertain voice as she turned to go. "Don't go anywhere Roger darling. I'll be right back."

"Take your time," called the humiliated negotiator. In the meantime, Roger kept busy trying to work his way out of his bonds. Normally he found freeing himself from ropes to be a cinch but Jenny had attached a rope to each wrist and ankle and tied them to each bedpost causing his body to assume an awkward 'X' shape. He had no slack to work the knots open and no leverage to use brute strength on the ropes. Perhaps if he dislocated his thumb he could work a hand free…

"I'm back, Roger darling," Jenny's voice called.

"Wha?" Roger looked away from his bound wrist to gape at the sight before him. Jenny Grant was wearing a black corset with metal studs, black panties and fishnet stockings, matching arm length opera gloves and stiletto heel boots. A black choker decorated with a tiny heart was at her throat. "Jenny! What in the world are you wearing?" Roger bawled.

"You said you wanted to see me in black," Jenny smiled as she uncoiled a black bullwhip. "I _wanted_ to go with something tender and demure, but hey, whatever rocks your boat..."

With a horrified grimace on his face, Roger started struggling against his bonds.

Jenny's large dark eyes widened. "Wow. Roger! I admire your enthusiasm but you should wait until I join you," she winked.

"Hurgh! Hunh!" Roger grunted as he strained against the ropes holding him down. His muscles flexed. The cords on his neck became visible; the cut of his biceps showed through his pajamas and his expanding pectoral muscles caused three buttons to fly loose from his pajama top.

"Whoo!" Jenny gasped as she dropped the whip and used a large lacey black fan to cool herself. "Roger! Wow. I thought that _I_ was going to be the dominant one, but you just turned the tables on me! Goodness, I'm getting weak in the knees. Forget the whole 'master-slave' thing, I'm yours!"

"Get me out of here!" Roger roared as the bed shook.

"Wow!" Jenny dropped the fan and put her hand to her chest. "At this rate I'm going to have to smoke a cigarette!"

"I'm not doing anything with you Jenny and you can't make me!" Roger bellowed.

"Roger, calm down," she grinned as she patted his shoulder. "I was just having some fun with you. I wasn't really going to hurt you. I was just having some fun!"

"I'm not having any fun with you!" Roger announced. "This farce has gone on long enough!" Anything else he was going to say was silenced by a slap to the face.

"Sorry," Jenny giggled. "You looked like you needed it. And for your information you _better_ have fun with me, otherwise I'll just clone you and implant the Memories I'm going to extract from you into your copy."

"What?"

"You better be nice to me," Jenny's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Remember the unfinished clones you saw in back my lab way out in the boonies? While you were out of it I took some tissue samples from your abdomen and extracted your DNA. If you're not nice to me I'll just have to make another Roger."

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"I_ am_ quite a kidder, but this time I'm serious," Jenny told him. "It's an old experiment that was set up in case so many people are killed that there wouldn't be a viable gene pool left for the species to go on. Before he retired Gordon Rosewater let me take a peek at the procedure and I just wanted to see if I could do it. And what do you know? I can!"

* * *

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

_Next: I'll Be Back_


	8. I'll Be Back

_The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network._

THE BIG O:

ACT 34

OUR LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP

_Chapter Eight: I'll Be Back_

Roger's blood ran cold. "Did you just say that you can clone a human being and that you're going to clone _me_?" he asked, "and that you're going to extract my Memories and put them into my clone?"

"Only if you're not nice to me Roger," Jenny frowned. "So you better be nice to me. I think some training is in order, so you'll know how to behave if I'm ever gonna trust you enough to untie you." She raised her leg up like a showgirl and planted the spike of her stiletto heeled boot into his side. "You're going to be good!"

"Ow! Stop it!" Roger squirmed, but it was just no use. With his wrists and ankles bound and tied to separate bedposts, he was helpless.

"Say you're going to be nice to me Roger!" she said as ground her spiked heel into his side.

"I'll be nice!" Roger cried. "Just knock it off you crazy witch!"

Jenny responded by taking her boot off and using it to beat him in the stomach. "Don't call me crazy!" she shrieked as she pounded the metal toe into his abdomen. "Don't ever call me crazy! That drives me crazy! You stay out of my room and quit touching me Eugene! I'm going to tell mom and dad that you touched me that way! I don't care if you _did_ kill them! I'm telling them anyway!" She threw the boot over her shoulder and clawed at his face. "Damn gloves! You can't scratch a face properly when you're wearing gloves!" She pulled on the wrists her arm length opera gloves before using her teeth to pull a glove off her arm. "I'll teach you Eugene! I'll teach you come into my room and touch me like that!"

"I'm not Eugene!" Roger bawled.

"What?"

"I'm not Eugene!" Roger repeated. "I'm not your dead brother! My name's Roger Smith and I think I'm bleeding!"

"Oh!" Jenny gasped in horror. "Roger! Oops! Don't worry about a thing sweetie-pie; 'cause I'm not just a genetic specialist, I'm a paramedic too! Wait here darling, I'll go get my first aid kit!" She took her other boot off and trotted out the door.

"I've got to get out of here before she kills me!" Roger gasped. He looked up at his right hand. "No way to avoid it," he grunted before pulling as hard as he could on the rope in order to slide his hand through. It seemed like forever before he dislocated his thumb. "Argh!" He relaxed his arm before wriggling it back and forth to slide his through the rope. Now he had a hand free. He painfully pressed the inside of his thumb against his shoulder to push the bone back into place. "Yeegrah!" he gargled before wiping the tears out of his eyes. He put his now free hand to work attacking the rope holding his other wrist. So far so good. Now if he could only get his other hand free before Jenny got back…

"I'm back!" Jenny called.

Roger grunted as he freed his other hand and sat up to untie an ankle.

"Roger!" Jenny gasped as she dropped the first aid kit. She had put on her nightgown and a white nurse's cap in her absence. "You're free! Don't move a muscle dear while I get the anesthetic!" She dashed over to the drawer and pulled out a pistol and put a fluffy dart into it. "Now hold still dear…"

"AAAARGH!" Roger screamed with an animal frenzy as he launched himself across the room at her. He had so much adrenaline going through him that he didn't even feel the dart poke into his chest when Jenny shot him but Jenny felt his hands go around her throat. "Hrrrgh!" Roger grunted as Jenny's face went blue when he picked her up by her neck. "Hrrr!" he growled as he held her in the air with her feet dangling above the floor.

Both of them were gasping and groaning with hideous grimaces on their faces until they collapsed and tumbled to the floor. Roger had fallen on his back and Jenny was gasping for air as she pried his fingers off her neck. For a while she just lay on top of him while she tried to force air into her lungs and stop the room from spinning. Then she rolled off him onto her back to see if she could regain her strength that way. Panting and sweating, she crawled over to the desk and took out a cigarette lighter and a pack of cigarettes. She put a cigarette in her mouth, lit it up and took a drag. "Roger, you _are_ a wild one," she grinned weakly.

* * *

"We need an electronic passkey to get past the elevator," Angel said as she drove the long black Cadillac down the street. "There's no point getting past the guards in the lobby if we can't get the elevator to go the right floor."

"Don't the guards have the proper passkey?" the android girl asked from the passenger seat.

"No, they don't have clearance," the blonde shook her head. "If an intruder gets down to the lab levels the complex is guarded by security that's lethal to humans anyway. Why send a guard when you can send a cleanup team?"

"So what do we do?"

"We go to the apartment of one of her off duty assistants," Angel replied. "Harold Mengele is staying at the Branford Arms, and that place has good security. Armed guards, electronic locks, the whole nine yards, but since it's on the surface, it'll be easier to get in than Jenny Grant's lab."

"I understand."

Angel parked the car and the two girls got out. "You see that tall brownstone building?" she asked as they drew the hoods on their red cloaks to conceal their identities. "The one with the mirrored bulletproof glass wall on the ground floor allowing the guard in the lobby to see the street? That's the Bradford Arms. Since it's getting dark I'm going to see if it's possible to get in from the roof."

"The roof is over six stories up," Dorothy observed.

"I know, but I see a lot of scaffolding on the other side," Angel pointed. "Hopefully I can use that or a fire escape to get up there. I can use my cutting torch to get through any roof hatch. In the meantime stay here and keep your eyes open." Angel activated the car's armor and walked away.

Dorothy looked at the long black box that used to be a car. She couldn't wait in the Gryphon now. She walked down the sidewalk and into the front entrance of the Bradford Arms.

The lobby of the Bradford Arms was bisected by a second clear barrier that was probably bulletproof glass. On Dorothy's side of the thick glass was a man pushing a button on the wall next to a microphone and speaker. On the other side was an armed guard sitting behind a desk. "I locked myself out of my car," the man pleaded. "Please can you help me? Do you have a coat hanger or a jimmy I could use to open it? If not, could I use the telephone so I could call someone?"

"Sorry," said the bored guard who didn't appear to be sorry at all, "but I can't leave this desk or let you in to use the phone. My only responsibility is to the security of this building."

"Thanks for nothing!" the man bawled.

"Don't mention it," the security guard said as he went back to his newspaper.

As the man walked away, Dorothy watched him before walking over to the speaker and pushing the button. "Excuse me; I would like to see Doctor Harold Mengele."

"Is he expecting you?"

"I don't believe so," the hooded Dorothy admitted. "Could you call him?"

"I'm sorry little lady but Doctor Mengele gave specific orders that was not to be disturbed," the guard said. "Next time you should make an appointment."

"I'll be back," Dorothy said before she walked out the door.

While she was out she noticed up the street was the man who had locked himself out of his car. He was standing by a large 1956 Mercury Montclair. Dorothy walked over to him. "Excuse me sir. I need your car."

"What?" the man asked.

Dorothy looked at the car keys dangling in the ignition. She made a fist and punched through the window on the driver's side of the car.

The man jumped back in horror and disbelief. "What? Hey!" he cried as the little android opened the door and got in. "What are you doing? Hey!"

Dorothy didn't even look at him as she started the car and gunned the engine. She shifted the car out of 'park' and drove it down the street towards the Bradford Arms Hotel Complex.

In the lobby the guard looked up from his newspaper when he heard a car's engine getting closer. It sounded like some dumb kids drag racing. After Big Fau's attack on Paradigm City he hadn't expected to hear that noise again.

The red Mercury burst through both walls of bulletproof glass sending a shower of deadly shards through the air. The guard hid under the desk as the car missed it by less than a foot to crash into the rear wall ten feet behind him.

"I told you I'd be back," Dorothy said as she got out of the ruined car and walked over to him. Before the shaken guard could react she had him restrained by his own handcuffs. The android then used the phone cord to secure his legs. She paused to peruse the list of tenants before going to the elevator and pressing the 'up' key.

* * *

In the apartment of Harold Mengele the scientist was sleeping in his chair. The chime to his door rang but he didn't wake up. He _did_ wake up when the door was knocked off its hinges.

A short slender figure in a red cloak entered the room. "I need your passkey."

Soon Dorothy had the electronic passkey and Doctor Mengele was trapped in his closet. The dainty android had moved his refrigerator in front of the door so it was unlikely that he was going to get loose and warn Jenny Grant anytime soon. As Dorothy was on her way out she was intercepted by two armed guards.

"Get on the floor!" the first one announced. "Don't move!"

Dorothy turned and fled in the opposite direction, the red cape of her cloak billowing behind her. When she got to the window at the end of the hall she jumped right through it causing the pane of glass to vanish in a shower of sparkling shards. She opened her cloak and extended her arms as if they were wings and executed an acrobatic somersault to ensure that her landing would be feet first. She soared across the street before her trajectory sent her down to a car parked on the curb. When she hit the car the cab caved in absorbing the impact and allowing the girl to nimbly leap off the ruined vehicle to dash down the street to the Gryphon.

In the meantime, Angel waited impatiently behind the wheel of Roger's car. "I should have known," she muttered to herself when she saw Dorothy running down the street towards her. She opened the passenger door and started the engine. As the young android entered the passenger seat Angel moved the car forward.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the blonde shouted as the black Cadillac sped down the street. "When I heard the alarms go off I just knew it was you! What were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?"

"I was thinking that Roger doesn't have very much time if we want to get him back alive," Dorothy said. "I got the electronic passkey if it helps, and Doctor Mengele won't be able to warn anybody for at least an hour."

"My God, Dorothy, you're about as subtle as a brick!" Angel snapped. "Freddie's right; you're not cut out for this cloak and dagger stuff at all!"

"I don't want your job," Dorothy retorted. "I just want Roger back."

"Well try not to get the Military Police on our backs until we get to Grant's lab," Angel fumed. "We only got one shot at this and it would be nice if we didn't get shot by the MP's before we even get there!"

"Next time _you_ can find a way in," Dorothy said. "In the meantime, are you sure that rubber bullets won't hurt anyone?"

"At the range we'll be using 'em they might be as lethal as being stoned to death," Angel conceded, "but they shouldn't break the skin. You'll get the shotgun with the beanbag rounds. Roger would never forgive me if I turned you into a killer."

"I don't want to hurt anyone," Dorothy agreed. Her neck servos hummed as she turned her head to look at Angel. "Do you think that I'm any different from RD?"

"You're as different as night and day," Angel assured her.

"Angel, I don't seem to have any failsafes that would keep me from harming someone," Dorothy admitted as she turned her head to look at the blonde. "When Beck placed me in Dorothy One he may have cancelled my failsafe protocols."

"Congratulations Dorothy," Angel smiled sarcastically. "Now you know what it's like to be human."

"It seems a little overrated." Dorothy directed her gaze out the windshield.

"How's being an android?"

"It's overrated."

"I thought so," Angel nodded with a grim smile.

They kept driving in silence until Dorothy asked a question. "Why are you bringing rubber bullets? Do you think they will be enough?"

"I don't know but I don't want to kill any guards if I can help it," the blonde replied.

"Why is that important?"

"Because I think the security at Grant's lab might be Military Police," Angel sighed.

"That complicates things," Dorothy agreed.

* * *

As the sun set across Paradigm City, the white tower that was Roger's home turned a reddish pink.

In Roger's parlor the Military Police had tapped the phone line and set up a tape recorder. When the phone rang Colonel Dastun sprang from the easy chair he was waiting in. "That's gotta be the kidnappers!" the burly officer cried. "Now the important thing we've got to do now is to keep calm!"

"Oh my, what should I do?" Norman asked.

"Now when you pick up the phone, the important thing is that you don't contradict anything the kidnappers say," Dastun instructed. "You want to keep them on the line as long as possible, that way we can trace the call back to its source."

"I understand," Norman nodded. Steeling his courage he stepped forward and pickup up the phone. "Hello. Roger Smith's residence. Norman Burg speaking. How may I help you?" He covered the speaker with his hand and glanced back at Dastun. "It's for you Colonel. It seems that your headquarters needs to communicate with you."

"Not again!" Dastun groaned. "Can't those knuckleheads do anything by themselves? I never get a moment to myself anymore." He picked up the phone. "Dastun," he barked. "What? You've got to be kidding! Bradford Arms did you say? How could that even happen?"

"Trouble sir?" Norman asked.

"I'll say!" Dastun nodded. "Somebody just hit the safe house where the Paradigm Company houses some of their top scientists! With the security compromised they're going to have to move all of them and stash them somewhere else! I wish I could stay Norman but this is too big to ignore!" He picked up his hat. "Gotta go."

"Happy hunting sir," the butler sighed.

* * *

In the meantime a telephone was ringing in Jenny Grant's bedroom. A light came on; flinging a slender shadow across the room that appeared to be putting on a coat or robe. Jenny Grant walked over the phone while closing her robe. "What could they want? Don't I get any time to myself?" She picked up the phone.

"Hello? Oh hi boss! What? Someone hit Bradford Arms? You want his Memories extracted tonight? I haven't perfected a safe way of doing that yet! It might kill him! Okay, so all of the people we've been trying it on so far have been terminally ill, but that doesn't mean that it's safe for Roger! He might end up a complete vegetable! Come on, we barely got to know each other! At least let me try some brainwashing techniques on him first."

She paused as she listened to the voice on the line. "Yes boss. I know who's signing my paychecks. So you think the security's been compromised huh? We're going to have to pull up stakes when we're done? Okay, not to worry, the explosive charges have been installed. Okay. Yes, that's right, I'll get it done. Bye-bye!"

She grunted forlornly as she covered her eyes with her hand. "This is why I can't have nice things," she sighed.

Roger groaned from somewhere in the room. With the tranquilizer in him he didn't even know his own name.

"Roger darling, there's been a change of plans," she sighed. "We gotta get you dressed. I'm sorry darling. I was hoping we'd have something."

* * *

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

_Next__:_ _The Deadlier of the Species_


	9. The Deadlier of the Species

_The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network._

THE BIG O:

ACT 34

OUR LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP

_Chapter Nine: The Deadlier of the Species_

On the other side of town Colonel Dastun arrived to take charge of the crime scene at Bradford Arms. "So what's the situation? How many scientists did we lose?"

"None sir," a younger officer informed him. "We've done a headcount and all of the scientists are accounted for."

"How many casualties?"

"No one is seriously hurt," the young officer told him. "The guard in the lobby has some bruises and a cut from a shard of glass, and Doctor Mengele is stuck in his closet. Apparently the perpetrator shoved him in there and moved the refrigerator in front of the door to lock him in."

"Moved the refrigerator?" Dastun asked. "How strong _was_ this guy? Are you sure there was only one perpetrator? Was anything stolen? These guys are working on all sorts of classified projects."

"We don't know sir."

"That figures," Dastun groaned. "These guys are workin' on stuff that's way above our pay grade. Which means Paradigm will hamstring the investigation and not let us find out anything that might expose their dirty little secrets. Well too bad. _I'm_ in charge of the Military Police these days. I can keep a secret. I'll take over the crime scene myself."

* * *

Roger's next memory was seeing florescent lights flash over him as he was wheeled down a darkened hall on a gurney.

"Why did we have to dress him in a tuxedo for?" an orderly asked.

"In case he doesn't make it of course," Jenny chirped. "Poor Roger. If he doesn't survive this he at least deserves to leave a stylish corpse. This is the way I want to remember him. You don't think I'm a _complete_ monster do you?"

The orderly didn't respond.

"I said '_do you_?'" Jenny growled.

"Uh—of course not Doctor Grant!" the orderly said nervously. "We're all just following orders!"

"That's right," Jenny sighed. "No matter whom I work for I don't rock the boat. I'm a good little soldier and if Zeke knew that he would_ still be alive_!" she screeched. "Ahem," she coughed. "I mean I don't know where he is or what he's doing," she said in a quiet voice.

Roger could hear the gurney get pushed through some doors.

"Okay, hook him up and we'll get started as soon as his body adjusts to the serum," Jenny ordered.

"Yes Doctor Grant," the orderly said. Roger could feel himself being placed in a chair and manacles being put on his wrists and ankles. A clamp was tightened on the back of his head and he could feel a metal cap being placed on his head.

"Okay, attach the needles," Jenny ordered.

"Yegah!" Roger shuddered as his scalped was pricked by a dozen points. He heard a quick hiss of an air gun or the sound of a tiny gas compressor.

"Okay, let's check his medical file," Jenny's voice said from a distance. There was a pause. "Dammit, we never got him to sign a waiver!"

* * *

On the surface, a skyscraper thrust defiantly into the city skyline. The building had once been a bank, just like the one Roger and Dorothy currently lived in. A revolving door in the green marble lobby spun to allow a beautiful young blonde woman wearing a long red cloak with a hooded cowl into the front lobby. She placed a large archaic carpet bag into the scanner and walked through the metal detector. The light lit up: Metal detected. The guards in the lobby looked up from their newspapers as one of their fellows picked up a sensor wand and walked in front of her.

"Please empty your pockets of any metal items including your keys or any loose change," he told her.

His voice died when she removed her cloak and tossed it on the floor. Under her cloak was a nearly skintight bubblegum pink catsuit that hoisted her bountiful breasts up where her cleavage could perform the maximum amount of distraction. As if providing additional suggestion, the outfit had a zipper in the front extending from her bustline to her crotch. It wasn't the curves on Angel's incredible body that had his attention, however. It was the arsenal of weapons strapped to her body.

"Holy—!" was all he was able to blurt out before Angel kicked him in the stomach and knocked him to the ground. She then drew two Uzi submachine pistols and walked forward, firing them at the guards to the left and right of her as she did so. The rubber bullets pummeled them senseless and sent them tumbling to the floor.

"Backup!" a surviving guard gasped as he drew his pistol and held a two-way radio to his ear. "We need backup!" He heard a tone indicating that someone had entered via the door closest to him. He turned and directed his pistol at a black clad carrot topped girl who was pointing a 12-gauge shotgun at him. The girl fired and he was hit by a "bean bag" round consisting of a small fabric "pillow" filled with #9 lead shot weighing about 40 grams (1.4 oz) that knocked him off his feet.

Dorothy walked forward cocking the shotgun to be joined by Angel who threw her depleted Uzis to the floor and drew two M1911 Colt automatics from the holsters at her curvaceous hips.

Racing down a hallway and entering the large lobby were a number of soldiers in black uniforms. They took cover behind the large square green marble pillars and pointed their .30 caliber M1 Garand rifles at the pair. "Freeze!" a soldier yelled.

Dorothy and Angel looked at each other and separated. Angel pointed her pistols at the soldiers and ran left. Dorothy held onto her shotgun and dashed right. The entire lobby exploded into shards of green marble as bullets impacted with the walls and the thick marble pillars.

Angel emptied her pistols as she ran behind the pillars on the left side of the lobby, but it was unclear if she hit anyone. When she reached the wall she dropped prone and rolled back to the right to hide behind one of the green marble pillars. She dropped her Colt automatics and drew two more Uzi submachine guns and waited for an opportunity to make her move.

In the meantime Dorothy ran up to the right wall and when she reached it she just kept on running. She leaned to her left and used her momentum to continue moving forward by running with her feet _on the wall_. She could only go a few steps before propelling herself off to spin upside-down in a complete arc and land behind a green marble pillar. She was now much closer to the soldiers than Angel was.

When a soldier closed on her position he had to stop to reload. Dorothy emerged from behind the pillar to kick the M1 rifle out of his hands before kicking him right in his ballistic vest. Roger was right. Dorothy's kick didn't hurt half as much as hitting the unyielding green marble wall behind him, even with a vest and helmet. As the soldier crumpled to the floor, a second soldier fired on Dorothy and she retreated behind a thick green pillar again.

In the meantime Angel had her Uzi's at the ready and was watching the sides of her pillar dissolve into rubble to her left and right. When the firing stopped the blonde emerged from behind the pillars to attack while they reloaded. Shell casings tinkled at her feet as she ran forward firing all the way. With rubber bullets in her guns she had to aim at their faces since their chests were protected by aluminum and nylon vests. A soldier dropped clutching his face and then a second, but there was still more opponents to deal with.

Angel's bold attack had drawn fire even from Dorothy's side of the lobby. The soldiers far to the blonde's right fired their weapons at her but couldn't get a bead as the blonde dashed through the maze of thick marble pillars. When Dorothy saw the pillars Angel was dashing past explode in a shower of green shards she snuck up behind a soldier and disarmed him by kicking his gun before firing a beanbag round at him at pointblank range with her shotgun. She shot a beanbag round into another soldier before fleeing when they turned to fire in her direction.

In the meantime Angel had cleared the path ahead of her but there were still plenty of soldiers firing at her from her right. As she ran and leaped behind the exploding pillars she rolled forward to retrieve a fallen soldier's M1. When she got to the back of the lobby she was still rolling and she fired the rifle one handed as she continued her somersaults.

Somehow she had managed to somersault to a corner alcove without being hit. She threw the empty M1 to the floor as she hid in the alcove and extracted two Mauser C96 "broom handle" machine pistols from holsters strapped to her body to provide suppressing fire. As she charged forwards firing all the way she saw two soldiers. The close one ducked behind a pillar but the second one didn't get out of the way. As the far soldier got hit in face, the near soldier darted out and Angel used her long legs to run up his body and kick him in the chin.

Angel glanced around. Somehow they had managed to take out all of the soldiers in the room. Dorothy dropped her empty shotgun and picked up the carpet bag from the scanner. "Okay," Angel instructed. "I'll get their guns before they know what's happening. They won't stay stunned forever."

"I understand," Dorothy said as she crouched to open the carpet bag and pulled out a large heavy device and set it on a table. She removed a joystick the size of a small flashlight and pulled a telescoping antenna out of the end that didn't have a red button. "Here's the detonator," she said as she handed it to the blonde. "Are you sure about this?"

"No," Angel smiled sheepishly. "This is stupid. Now get going. Roger probably doesn't have much time."

"Good luck," Dorothy said as she pulled a fire extinguisher out of the bag.

"You too," Angel smiled sadly. She turned her attention to the injured guards and soldiers that were groaning and trying to sit up or rise to their feet. "Okay, listen up! I've got a bomb and I'm not afraid to use it! All I have to do is press this button and we all get blown up to kingdom come!"

Dorothy entered the elevator and slipped the magnetic stripped piece of plastic into a slot. As the elevator sank into the earth, the little android sprayed herself with the fire extinguisher and crouched before covering herself with her cloak.

Several levels down below the doors opened to reveal a hallway with a strange robot dominating it. The robot resembled a black bulldozer the size of a Saint Bernard. Instead of a shovel it sported a number of cameras and what appeared to be a machine gun on a stubby rotating turret. The robot's sensors scanned the elevator. Its cameras didn't see a human figure, or even an android that boasted a humanoid shape. Its infrared scanners didn't detect a heat signature, so the robot continued scanning and ignored the ball of red fabric that crawled past it leaving a trail of water and melting chunks of ice in its wake.

When the red ball was behind it, tiny white hands holding a fire extinguisher sprayed the cameras, sensors and microphones. Dorothy emerged from under the cloak to pull the robot's fragile cameras and sensors out of the chassis, and ripped the gun off the turret as an afterthought. She then turned and marched at a brisk pace down the corridor.

* * *

"We've got a security breach in the upstairs lobby!" a man in a soldier's uniform said as he burst into the lab.

"How many intruders?" Jenny asked him.

"Two."

"Two?"

"Just two," the soldier nodded, "and they managed to clean out the whole lobby! Not only that but one of them might have gotten down here!"

"This is why I can't get any work done," Jenny sighed as she took of her spectacles and rubbed her eyes. She left her chair and walked over to console on the wall that a television screen. "Okay, let's see if we can get our troublemaker up on any of the cameras." She pressed some buttons. "Okay. There she is in corridor 'C'. Wait a second! Is that Roger's little girlfriend? How cute!" she giggled. "Send the boys to go get her. She isn't even armed. We can use her as a hostage against the other one!"

* * *

Dorothy as marched down the hallway a soldier appeared and pointed his pistol at her. "Freeze!" he ordered. "Don't move!"

Without pausing, Dorothy marched right up to him and struck him in the chest.

"Aah!" He flew backwards and tumbled to the floor. He opened his eyes to see her bend over to pick up his pistol and remove the magazine in one fluid motion. She crushed the gun's pistol grip as before tossing both pistol and ammunition her left and right as she marched forward. Within seconds she reached the prone soldier and pulled the electric shock baton off his belt. Other than that she ignored him and kept going at a brisk pace down the corridor looking neither left nor right.

"What? Hey!" the soldier jumped his feet and tackled her from behind. As Dorothy staggered forwards, she grasped his arm and flung him forward over her shoulder. It was impossible; she should have been knocked off her feet. The last thing the soldier saw before white hot agony wracked his body was the flashing prongs of his stun club coming at his face. "Aaah!"

* * *

Back at Bradford Arms Dastun was interviewing Doctor Mengele. "Come on, Doc, what did she want from you?" Dastun demanded. "_You_ are the victim here! I don't see why you're playing so coy with us."

"She didn't say," the scientist lied.

Dastun sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I know that the project you're working on top secret, but the bad guys already know what it is. Paradigm put me in charge of the Military Police. If there's anybody could to trust it would be me!"

The scientist looked away.

"You've been given specific orders not to tell me haven't you?" Dastun growled. "That's okay, 'cause we can continue this conversation back at headquarters! For all I know you trashed this place yourself and used an accomplice to fool us and try to look innocent!"

"You can't do that!" the scientist protested.

"Watch me!" Dastun snapped.

"Colonel Dastun!" called a young officer who just entered the apartment. "We've just got a report of a terrorist attack at Arlington Tower! Some woman has a bomb and a bunch of hostages and she's demanding to speak to you!"

"She's _what_?" Dastun roared. He took off his hat and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Roger dammit, you really picked a fine time to get yourself kidnapped. I could really use a negotiator," he muttered before he put his hat back on. "Okay seal this place and wrap this guy up and take him back to headquarters. Tell the men we got stationed at Arlington Tower that I'm on my way. Don't have anybody do anything before I get there! You got that?"

"Yes Colonel!" the young officer saluted.

* * *

A third soldier fell to the ground as Dorothy stepped past him to continue down the hallway. Although she didn't appear to be looking left or right she was scanning her surroundings for potential threats. In front of her a thick plate of metal descended blocking the hallway. She grunted softly as she turned to see a second metal plate slam shut behind her, trapping her in a narrow length of hall. The metal plating was too thick for her to get through. She was trapped!

"Roger," she gasped as a bright green spray erupted from the sprinklers overhead.

* * *

"There, we got her," Jenny smiled as she looked at the monitor. "I don't know _where_ she learned to fight like that! Roger must be a very good teacher. Well, she's harmless now that my brain eating spores got ahold of her. They'll reduce her to a zombie who'll take orders from anyone now. Okay, no sense wasting time. Time to get this show on the road."

She got up from the control panel and walked into the center of the lab where lights shown down on Roger who was strapped to a chair underneath a massive apparatus that appeared to be a hairdryer that stuck needles into his scalp. "Sorry to keep you waiting sweetie," she said as she kissed him on the cheek.

Roger felt a pen being placed in his hand and a clipboard being put on his knee.

"Just sign here, Roger darling," Jenny said as she guided his hand. "We need to cover our bases in case something goes wrong."

"Unnh," Roger groaned. The tranquilizer dart had left him dizzy and with the bright lights shining in his face he couldn't open his eyes.

"Okay, the paperwork's all filled out!" Jenny chirped as she walked away. "As soon as you guys are ready let's throw the switch."

"Jenny don't," Roger moaned before the world vanished in an electric jolt. His face contorted in pain as he screamed.

* * *

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

_Next:_ _Memory Lane_


	10. Memory Lane

_The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network._

THE BIG O:

ACT 34

OUR LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP

_Chapter Ten: Memory Lane_

Roger's brain was on fire. He couldn't hear his own scream over the buzzing noise that assaulted his senses. He was falling, but in what direction he couldn't tell. Suddenly, his senses returned with a vividness and clarity he didn't expect.

* * *

"Endangered species?" the old man who was tied to his chair flinched. "What do you mean by that?" He thought about it for a moment. "Oh yes, I see what you mean. You're implying that aside of Paradigm City and a few towns there isn't much of humanity left aren't you?"

"Such a true intellectual," his squat captor smiled condescendingly. "That's right. There isn't very many of you stupid apes to go around. That's why They set aside this land for you. To prevent you from going extinct, They've allowed you to thrive undisturbed in your natural environment, a corrupt decadent city."

* * *

"Then it's time I face my fears right now!" Roger declared as he turned and opened the curtains to reveal the black megadeus in the distance getting closer. "Big O!" he shouted as he walked out onto the balcony. "If you don't think that you're complete without me, I'm willing to give myself up right now! Stop where you are and I'll let you have me!" He spread his arms wide but black megadeus' only reply was to continue to thunder towards him. "Didn't you hear me?" Roger spoke into his watch. "I said that if you spare the others I'll merge with you! I'll let myself be part of a machine!"

Dorothy joined him on the balcony. "Roger…"

"I mean it, Big O!" Roger growled. "Stop right where you are or I won't be your domineus!" When the megadeus continued forward without slowing, he pulled a large pistol out of his pocket. "I warn you…!"

"Roger, that isn't…"

But Roger was ignoring her. "Stop right there, Big O!" he commanded as he put the barrel of the gun against his own temple. "Stop right there or I'll blow my brains out! You'll have no domineus!" he cried. "You'll be incomplete forever, is that what you want?"

* * *

Roger jumped to his feet and grasped Dorothy by the shoulders. "Dorothy!" he cried. "Get a hold of yourself! You are Dorothy Wayneright and nobody can take that away from you! Red Destiny is dead! She can't control you! Fight it!"

Dorothy's body jerked in Roger's hands as if she was struggling against an unknown foe. It was as if she were struggling for control of her limbs against some malevolent force. "R-raw…jer…" she stammered. "R-roger… I… love… you…!" Her hands glided up his body to his shoulders.

Roger gasped. "Dorothy I…" He never got a chance to finish because Dorothy lifted him off his feet and threw him over the side of the catwalk.

* * *

"Angel!" Roger shouted at the ghostly robot heading for them. "Memories are very precious to people's lives! They give us the opportunity to prove to ourselves that we exist! And if we lose them, we have an unrelenting feeling of uncertainty!" Big O's spectral twin continued to plod forward, as buildings and landmarks vanished in its wake. "You must listen to me!" he insisted. "The humans that are living now in the present are made up of more than their memories of the past!" The negotiator walked out of Big O's cockpit to address the phantasmal megadeus that plodded towards them.

"I myself don't even know who I am!" he declared from his perch on Big O's collar, his arms gesturing to emphasize the sincerity of his confession. "I don't have a single solitary memory about myself, but I don't believe that anyone took them from me. I most likely erased them of my own free will. I was the one who made that choice. I made it for myself, so I could live in the present and in the future! Because I must go on believing there is a _me_!"

It wasn't working. The colossal phantasm continued to thunder towards them. There wasn't very much of the city left. Soon there would be nothing at all.

"Angel!" he called in the most apologetic voice that he could muster. "I know that I will never lose the you that is now a part of my memories! The you that met me, and the conviction you had for what you felt you needed to do! The you that loved yourself more than anyone else ever could! I'll never forget this woman named Angel, who once loved herself, but was filled with such doubt." He spread his arms wide, ready to sacrifice himself to the nonexistence that Angel's nihilistic despair had condemned all of mankind to. "You must stop denying your own existence," he implored. "You have to live as a human being!"

* * *

Roger, Angel, and Gordon were on a sound stage, full of cameras and monitors and props. There was a mock-up of the interior of a clapboard cabin, complete with wood-burning stove, bubbling cooking pot, and fake painted mountains behind the windows. "Roger Smith," the old man gasped in sudden recognition. Gordon reached into the sweatband of his straw hat and pulled out a torn bit of paper. It was the other half of the torn photo. When he put the two halves together, it showed a younger Gordon Rosewater shaking hands with Roger Smith.

Roger's eyes widened in surprise. "How is that possible?"

"Long ago I hired you," Gordon said, "No, I hired a Roger Smith who had memories to conduct negotiations for me. I said that if it's true about this world, if it's one enormous stage, then we're just merely actors playing out our roles on it. We don't need to have any memories. But I've always wondered why can't there be those who can change their roles?" He looked up at Roger. "I wanted that person to negotiate with the one who directed this world."

"You mean to tell me I had memories?" Roger asked.

* * *

Alan Gabriel was Big Duo's pilot. He had hundreds of green cables connecting his body to Big Duo's controls. "Oh, I must say, this DOES feel good!" the man cyborg announced cheerfully. "I haven't felt anything quite like this since I decided to quit being a total human! My body, my nerves! They've all been tied directly into Big Duo! Big Duo itself is my very own body!"

In the cockpit of Big O, Roger narrowed his eyes. "You'd go that far? Well, you have it backwards. That incomplete megadeus has control of YOU."

"What?" Alan gasped.

"An incomplete megadeus seeks out a domineus," Roger calmly continued. "You're just being used as a device to activate it. That's exactly why your master stole Dorothy, isn't it?"

* * *

The hanger that contained the massive megadeus known as Big O was filled with brick red scorpion robots. Roger had managed to get Norman to an empty catwalk but one of the robots had "Dorothy!" Roger cried.

The dainty android was suspended in the pincer on the tail of a scorpion robot that was propelling itself upward with some kind of rockets installed in its hull. "I am what I am. I am not like you Roger," Dorothy announced in a quiet apology. "I will always have the same body and the same heart."

"What are you talking about?" Roger cried in a hoarse voice. "Don't give up! All right Big O!" The massive megadeus moved a gunmetal black arm as it reached out to intercept the scorpion robot before it escaped with its prize. "Dorothy!" Roger shouted. "You can get away! As strong as you are you can break free! You have to take control of your own destiny…!"

Dorothy seemed surprised, as if she had never considered that possibility before. Or was it an emotional response because this was goodbye?

"DOROTHY…!" Roger cried as the scorpion robot took her out of a hole in the roof to disappear into the sky.

* * *

"Shhh!" Gordon Rosewater put his finger to his mouth. "Why are you so obsessed with something that's intangible? If something doesn't exist here and now, it would be the same as if it never existed in the first place, wouldn't you say?"

Roger sat down on the wooden porch steps in defeat. "Now I see your thinking is what's kept you happy," he muttered. "However, I just can't... No, it's not just me. The foundations of who we believe ourselves to be are being shaken because of these pieces of memories that show up in fragments... and so, I wanna know. I wanna know about my memories."

* * *

Two foreign megadueses approached from the sea as a third rose in front of the two. Roger held his bleeding arm as he sat in Big O's cockpit as the control ring lowered down over him. "We have choices," he said. "Some people like to stand in the rain without an umbrella. That's what it means to live free. Uh?"

Dorothy jumped down next to Roger's left arm and laid her hand on the top part of the left joystick. She was going to be his left arm, serving at his side until the end.

"Big O!" Roger shouted. "Showtime!"

* * *

In the darkened train tunnel, Roger faced the cowled teenage girl who held him at gunpoint. In the darkness, he couldn't see her face with that blood red hood on her head, but from the light of his flashlight he could clearly see the automatic pistol she had pointed at him.

"Androids aren't supposed to be capable of harming humans," he announced defiantly. "Are you different?"

"I am doing as commanded," she reported in an unnatural yet eerily familiar voice. "From the instant I came into being those orders have rung in my ears, so I followed them. It was a natural a thing to do as opening an umbrella in the rain."

"'R' stands for red," Roger growled. "What's the 'D'?"

"That's what being commanded means."

"Death?" he guessed. "Devil? Dark?"

"Destiny!" she announced.

"Destiny?"

"Who commands _you_ Roger Smith?" she demanded.

"No one commands me!" he retorted.

"Then why do you pilot It?"

"Are you talking about the megadeus?"

"They are the Sacred Chariots of Mankind," she said dangerously. "Those who pilot them are intended to be commanded. If you admit that you are not, then you must perish!"

Roger threw his flashlight spinning through the air. It hit her in the face and the tunnel was lit by the muzzle flash of her gunshot.

* * *

Big Duo was a wreck but somehow still managed to climb out of the crater and pathetically reach towards the Paradigm Company's main headquarters despite not having a head, an arm or a pilot. The red megadeus' pilot was a hideous gargoyle whose charred face was wrapped in bandages. "You don't need a master? Schwartzwald asked. "Or do they choose their master? Do we control them, or do they control us, Roger Smith?" From inside the crimson cockpit of Big O, Roger Smith didn't have an answer.

* * *

Roger used the slender cord and grappling hook on his watch to swing from the cockpit of Big O to the faceless head of Dorothy One. "Dorothy! Dorothy hold on! Unh!" he grunted as he managed to reach the android girl entangled in the cables that hooked her up to the seven story anthropomorphic lobster robot. The poor girl's hands were clasped in prayer and her eyes were closed. She looked like she was praying. "Dorothy! Come on, snap out of it!" He grunted as he pulled cables loose from her. "You're Dorothy Wayneright! Just be who you are!"

Dorothy's eyes opened. "Raw. Jer." She had turned his name into a plea.

Roger put his arms around her and pulled with all his might.

* * *

"Why did you drag me back to this place?" Roger asked.

"Why did you abandon it?" Gordon Rosewater retorted as he loosed the tie on his business suit. "You can't possibly expect me to run the whole show by myself, do you? I'm too old."

"Is that what this is about?" Roger exhaled as he sat in a couch next to the old man's chair. "Looking for a successor?"

"Yes. What can I say? I'm getting too old," Gordon admitted. "I'm forgetting things. I don't have the same pep I used to. I can't run everything anymore. You knew this day would come. It's time for you to step up, Roger Smith."

"I told you before," Roger said. "I want no part of it. Just erase my memories of the past and let me live my life."

"Roger, think of what you're saying," Gordon pleaded. "There _is_ no one else. It's got to be you. Everyone else is either a mindless sheep or a power mad fool. Who am I going to leave in charge of things? Alex? Vera? They're both fanatics who will run humanity into the ground if we let them."

"Why don't you put Alex Rosewater in charge of the Paradigm Company and Vera Ronstadt in charge of the Union and with luck they'll both kill each other?" Roger asked flippantly. "With them out of the way it will be win-win."

"This is nothing to joke about, Roger," Gordon said. "You've seen how authority can be abused! Not even _I_ could resist it! You are the only one I completely trust."

"That's because you know I don't want it," Roger muttered.

"That's because you know the cost of accepting!" Gordon nodded. "Nobody else does. Nobody else who has the stomach for it! There's nobody else I can trust with absolute power over what's left of humanity. No one!"

"Split it up then," Roger suggested. "A division of power. A system of checks and balances. No single person in charge of everything."

* * *

Roger was in a huge semicircular futuristic chamber where a man sat in a circular chair behind a control panel that bristled with buttons and flashing colored lights.

"Welcome to the Union," the man nodded in satisfaction. "Gone is the nightmarish dystopia that is Paradigm City, where capitalism and poverty takes the place of order and freedom. Here in the Union, everyone is equal, and the will of the people is absolute! Unlike the corrupt city of Paradigm, where a man without capital is a man without choices, here we _give_ you a choice."

"What if I don't want the choice you've given me?" Roger quipped.

"You can do what you want," the bearded man shrugged, "as long as it's what the majority wants."

"What if it's not what the majority wants?" Roger challenged.

"You don't want to be the lone wolf, Mister Smith," the little man shook his head condescendingly. "You really don't. Society cannot exist as a collection of separate individuals. The unified collective is civilization. Unorganized individuals are anarchy. We are a unified collective."

"If wanted to be remain part of a group I would have stayed with the Military Police. I've had enough of this," Roger shook his head. "I'm leaving!"

"Haven't you yet realized that there isn't any way out?" the little man said in mild amusement. "Now then, let's get on to business. Why _did_ you resign anyway?"

"I've got nothing to say to you!" Roger cried. "Do you hear me? Nothing!"

"Now be reasonable, Mister Smith," the man in the circular chair gently scolded. "It's just a matter of time. Sooner or later you'll tell me. Sooner or later you'll want to. Let's make a deal. You cooperate, tell us what we want to know, and this can be a very nice place. You may even be given a position of authority."

"I will not make any deals with you!" Roger snarled. "I've resigned. I quit. I walked out, d'you hear me? I've had it! I'm not going to be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed, or numbered! My life is my own!"

"Really?" the bearded man in the chair feigned surprise.

"Yes," Roger asserted. "I'm a free human being. I'm getting out of here."

* * *

Roger's father looked away from his teenaged son. "Roger, promise me that you won't make the same mistakes that I did," the older man sighed. "I lost my family when I was young and it threw me into a dark cave that I couldn't get out of. Thank God your mother managed to talk some sense into me. I've been lucky having you boys around, but you're my youngest. It's too late for Damien, but I want you to promise me that you won't become the same man I did. Find a nice girl and settle down and make damn sure that if you have any children they won't have to grow up without their parents."

"What are you talkin' about?" a teenaged Roger protested. "You were a hero!"

"I wouldn't wish that life on my worst enemy," his father said as he turned to reveal the sorrowful look on his face. "Promise me no matter what you'll take control of your destiny and just be who you are. I let my childhood memories rule me for too long. It took your mother to teach me something late in life that I hope you learn early: People aren't ruled by their memories. We have choices. That's what it means to be a free human being."

* * *

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

_Next:_ _I Wouldn't Bet On It_


	11. I Wouldn't Bet On It

_The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network._

THE BIG O:

ACT 34

OUR LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP

_Chapter Eleven: I Wouldn't Bet On It_

Dorothy stood at attention facing the metal plate blocking the hall before her. After a few minutes, a hydraulic hiss heralded the plate's slow rise back into the ceiling. A technician in a lab coat entered the room. "Come with me," he said. "You can wait in the infirmary while Doctor Grant decides what to do with you. Urk!"

His words were cut off when Dorothy seized his throat and hurled him down the hall. She continued walking forward and zapped him with the electroshock baton when he started to move. She walked through a pair of double doors, knocking the doors off their hinges as she did so. She kept going until she got to a second set of doors marked 'Memory Extraction Lab'.

"Ah!" Jenny jumped up from her chair when the doors flew into the room.

Without a word, Dorothy Wayneright entered and shocked the first technician she saw with her stun baton.

"Who are you?" Jenny cried. "What do you want?"

"Roger," she said as she went to the apparatus in the center of the large circular chamber. The lab featured a number of chairs and control consoles set in the outer wall with a large ceiling based machine that lowered itself to a figure manacled to a chair in the center of the room. Roger Smith was in a tuxedo and was writhing in agony in the central chair. Jenny Grant was dressed in a women's business suit under a white lab coat and was seated in a chair set ten feet before Roger's.

"Don't touch him!" Jenny leaped to her feet and held out a warning hand. "If you don't stop the process properly the shock might leave him a vegetable forever!"

"Release him," Dorothy ordered.

"Hey, I know you now!" Jenny's large eyes widened in recognition. "You're Roger's little girlfriend aren't you? How did you manage to resist my brain-eating spores?"

"You're a horrible woman," Dorothy said as she picked up Jenny's chair to throw it at the remaining technicians. Jenny's assistants turned and fled the chamber.

"Ha!" Jenny drew a pistol from her coat but Dorothy quickly snatched it out her hand. "Ouch!" The mad scientist clutched her dainty digits. "Okay! The gun is yours, but the _fingers_ belong to me!"

"Release him," Dorothy said as she removed the magazine from the handle of the automatic pistol.

"I nearly broke a nail," Jenny said as she pulled what appeared to be a tube of lipstick from her coat. "Ha!" she crowed as she sprayed a pinkish gas in Dorothy's face. "Breathe deeply pumpkin!"

Dorothy blinked and wiped her face with one hand before crushing the grip of the pistol she was holding in her other hand.

"What are you, some kind of android?" Jenny gasped in fear before frowning indignantly. "You _are_ an android, aren't you? Roger traded my life for an android! How dare he? What a freakjob! Ew! Roger Smith is definitely off_ my_ list!"

Dorothy looked over her shoulder at Roger squirming in pain under the effects of the Memory Extractor. "Then let Roger go."

"Or what?" Jenny sneered. "I'm calling your bluff sweetie! Everybody knows that androids can't harm humans!"

Dorothy's neck servos hummed as she slowly looked back at the mad scientist. The android's blank expression changed as her eyes slowly narrowed and her brow furrowed. "I wouldn't bet on that."

"Ow!" Jenny squeaked when Dorothy seized her wrist in a viselike grip and marched to the wall behind her. "Let go! You're hurting my wrist!"

When Dorothy reached the control panels on the outer ring of the chamber she grabbed the back of the mad scientist's head and tapped her face against the console with quick repeated jabs.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" Jenny yelped with each impact. "You broke my glasses," she sniveled. "They're a designer… Eek!"

Dorothy picked Jenny up by her collar and her belt and pulled her body along the control consoles as if she was a towel being used to clean a long table. Jenny squeaked and sniveled as the sharp buttons cut into her face and hands. When Dorothy got to the end and finally pulled Jenny off the control panels the mad scientist had lost several buttons on her blouse.

"Stop! Stop!" Jenny cried as Dorothy dragged her by the back of the neck to the central chair where Roger was gasping and twitching. "You can't do this! You're going to kill me!"

"You'll recover," Dorothy told her. She lifted the scientist off her feet and slapped her face before forcing her to look at Roger. "Look at him! He's in agony! His Memories are being stolen and his mind is being destroyed, and _you_ are doing this to him! There's no excuse for what you've done. Release him, or I will kill you."

"You can't do this!" Jenny shrieked. "Androids can't kill humans!"

Dorothy grasped Jenny's collar and pulled on it to place the mad scientist's face within inches of her own. "Since my father was murdered I have been shot, kidnapped, overridden, magnetized, and taken apart. And your brother took my cat. Each time Roger Smith was the only thing that saved me from utter annihilation. I assure you, I can _easily _kill someone as inhuman as you. If I were you, I would release him. _Now_."

"Okay!" Jenny sniveled. "I'll do it! I'll do it! Just stop hurting me!"

"Very well," Dorothy pushed her backwards when she released her. "I'll be watching you. If Roger doesn't recover your demise will not be quick."

* * *

Outside Colonel Dastun had arrived to take charge of the situation. As soon as his car came to a stop he got out and jogged to the officer in charge. "Sitrep!"

"Two women entered the building and overpowered the guards in the lobby," the officer informed him. "Additional security was dispatched, but they were overcome and now all of them are being held as hostages."

"How many were killed?"

"We have no reports of fatalities so far but many of the hostages need to be hospitalized," the young officer reported. "The terrorists refuse to talk to anyone but you."

"Okay I'm here," Dastun grunted as he looked at the building. "Get them on the line. I assume you cut off the phone lines to make sure they could only talk to _us_."

"Yes sir," the officer nodded while handing him a telephone attached to a spooling wire. "Here you go." They looked down as the phone started ringing. "Apparently they haven't disabled the exterior cameras sir."

"Yeah," Dastun grunted as he wondered why the young officer hadn't ordered the snipers to take out the cameras. "I guess so," he muttered sarcastically as he answered the phone. "Dastun speaking."

"About time you showed up!" a familiar woman's voice barked over the phone. "These guys need to get to a hospital! Nonlethal ammunition my foot!"

"What?" Dastun gasped. "Ange—"

"Shut your mouth Colonel!" Angel snapped. "I'm not saying anything more over an open line! If you want to talk to me you're going to have to come in here and do it! And you better hurry. Some of these guys might not make it through the night."

It was her. Patricia Lovejoy, the woman Roger knew as Angel, also known to the Union as Agent 340. One of the few Union agents that hadn't been rounded up and the one who probably deserved to be arrested the least. She had been smart to keep Dastun from saying her name over the phone and Dastun was kicking himself for almost doing so. What was going on? If she had to get a message to him so bad there had to be a less dangerous way to do so. The poor girl must be at the end of her rope.

"I'm going in," he announced.

His men gave collective gasps of surprise. "Sir! You can't be serious!" the younger officer protested. "You're too high value a target sir! This could be exactly what they want!"

"I didn't say I'd be going in unarmed," he said as he patted the pistol in his holster and fastened a bulky walkie-talkie to his belt. "This is going to be a delicate negotiation so whatever you do don't call me or do anything without my say so and if anybody contacts the home office I'll have their hides!"

Dastun strode forward out of the barricade of military vehicles and into the lobby.

"Hold it right there Colonel!" Angel ordered as she held up the remote control.

"You're not in any position to give orders!" Dastun sneered. "You brought me here so what do you want?" Great, he thought. You've just challenged someone who's got a bomb you fool. Way to go Dastun. Why don't you tell her to go to hell while you're at it?

"First I want you to see the bomb I've got here," Angel gestured at the device on the table behind the groaning and injured guards and soldiers who were lying or sitting near it.

"I see it," Dastun nodded. "What do you want?"

"Jenny Grant is running a secret underground lab under this building," Angel announced. "She's kidnapping old people from their homes and killing them for their Memories! If you don't put a stop to it tomorrow she's just going to go out and get some more!"

"You got any proof of that?"

"No I don't have any proof you idiot!" Angel stomped her pink booted foot. "If I did do you think I'd be doing _this_?"

"So what do you want _me_ to do?" he asked sarcastically.

"Get some men down the elevator shaft and stop her!" Angel snapped. "And while you're at it you could rescue the only test subject who might be still alive. A friend of yours."

"A friend of mine?" Dastun's eyes bulged in realization. "Roger!" he gasped as the truth hit him. _Two_ women had come in here. Only one was in the room giving him orders. If Roger was being held in a mad scientist's lab under their feet the other girl must be Dorothy Wayneright!

"Okay Colonel," Angel said as she backed away to the elevators and pushed the 'up' button. "I've told you what you need to do. Now you have to decide whether or not to do it!" The elevator hissed open and she backed in and activated the doors.

Dastun seized his walkie-talkie. "Get in here, and bring some stretchers!" he ordered. "She's heading to the roof and she still has the detonator switch!" he said as he went to a second elevator and pressed the 'up' button. "I'm going after her to make sure that she doesn't activate it! In the meantime get everybody out of the building until the bomb squad arrives!"

He entered the second elevator as the doors hissed open. Send some men down the elevator shaft she said. Yeah right. As if he'd order more men in while there was a bomb in the building that she could set off just because! If they shared that kind of trust she wouldn't have to take hostages to get him to help her would she? Who did she think she was kidding? Once she was in custody and the bomb was defused then he'd think about sending some men down there. Right now he had to stop her and evacuate the hostages. Dammit, how long did it take for the elevator to go up anyway? She could get off at any floor but Dastun had a pretty good idea where she was going.

* * *

On the roof of the tower Angel scanned the sky. She heard the gravel behind her crunch and the click of a pistol.

"Hold it lady!" Dastun growled.

"Dastun!" Angel gasped as she brushed her golden hair out of her face. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you rescuing Roger?"

"Like I'm going to send my men into a building with a bomb in it," Dastun growled as he pointed his automatic pistol at her. Okay, technically he had, but he had also given specific orders to get back out again. "You know damn well I can't take your story at face value. Disarm the bomb and come with me and _then_ I'll listen."

"You fool!" Angel held the remote detonator before her. "You blind stupid fool! Roger doesn't have that kind of time! You've just sealed his death warrant! I ought to kill the hostages right now!"

"Do it and you'll be dead before you hit the ground," Dastun warned her. "I'll shoot if I have to Angel. You know I will!"

"So what?" Angel sniveled. "I'm being hunted by both the Union and the Paradigm Company; I know enough about what happened forty years ago to know that there's no point going on and I've thrown away my freedom for the man I love who's in love with someone else! Why should I give a _damn_ if you shoot me?"

"Ah," Dastun gasped quietly when he saw the tears streaming out of Angel's eyes. For an instant he was on a foggy pier, gunning down a beautiful woman who was holding a remote detonator. He was shooting the woman that he was in love with, even though he didn't know her real name.

Tears poured down Angel's face as her body trembled with her sobs. She was scared. She felt guilty. And she had lost all hope.

It was time to try the unexpected. Dastun holstered his gun.

"What?" Angel gasped. "What are you doing?"

"So far I have no record of you ever causing a single fatality," Dastun said. "Hell, I can't recall a verifiable instance of you _stealing_ anything. You haven't killed anyone yet, but if you don't let us evacuate the men you assaulted that will change. Come on Angel, you're not a murderer. You'd only kill if you had to, and you haven't reached that point yet. Give me a chance to find us a way out of this mess."

Angel deactivated the remote detonator and tossed it away. She fell to her knees and howled as she covered her face. Dastun sighed and sat on the roof next to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Come on, kid. Let it out," he said. "You need to get it out so you can clear your head. Don't hold back. Let it out."

"Wuh-why doesn't he love me?" she asked him.

"He doesn't love _me_ either," Dastun shrugged. "Eight years ago he resigned from the Military Police and told me to go to hell. It's okay, kid. You haven't been singled out. Roger does that to everybody."

Angel burst into hysterical laughter. Despite himself Dastun did too.

"God, it's one thing to get shot or arrested, but why did you let me make such a big fool of myself?" she laughed bitterly. "You could at least have done the decent thing and shot me!"

"I guess you gotta be heartless to have this job," Dastun laughed before they both sobered. "Now what? You were telling the truth weren't you? Roger's being held here, and he might be dead."

"Don't say that!" Angel barked. "If can't be with me can't he at least be happy?"

"You had your turn, now it's _my_ turn to kick myself," Dastun growled. "If what you said is true, we don't even know if Roger's breathing!"

* * *

"Roger's not breathing," Dorothy announced as the needles withdrew from his scalp and the apparatus rose to release his head. It was true. While the machine was going he had been writhing and gasping but now he was completely still.

Dorothy ran to his side and used her uncanny strength to break the manacles that restrained his wrists and ankles. She saved the clamp that held his head straight for last. "Roger," she said as she pulled him out of the chair and laid him gently on the floor. "Roger, please," she said as she crouched over him and gently held his face. "Come back to me. Come back to me Roger. Come back."

She tilted his head to bring his chin up, with her left hand under Roger's neck and her right hand on his forehead. He still wasn't breathing, and she didn't feel a pulse. After a brief pause she pinched his nose and sealed her lips around his. She gave him four quick breaths and listened again. She didn't use any oxygen so her used air should be as good as fresh air. He still wasn't breathing, but at least his chest rose when she exhaled into him. Fine. If he couldn't breathe on his own, she was just going to have to breathe for him.

"Roger come back," she said as she placed her hand on his chest and pressed down at a rate of over one push a second. "Come back to me Roger. I love you. I'm frightened and I can't go on without you." She delivered two more breaths into him. "Please Roger," she said as she delivered thirty more chest compressions. "You're frightening me. Please don't leave me alone. I can't survive without you." She gave him two more breaths. "Come back Roger. Big O will heal you if you choose to come back. Please come back to me Roger. Don't die. I need you."

* * *

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

_Next:_ _I See My Ride_


	12. I See My Ride

_The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Bandai Visual, Sunrise, and Cartoon Network._

THE BIG O:

ACT 34

OUR LITTLE GIRL HAS GROWN UP

_Chapter Twelve: I See My Ride_

On the roof of the skyscraper Angel and Dastun were smoking cigarettes. "So how're you gonna get away?" Dastun asked her. "If I just let you go there's gonna be hell to pay!"

"Don't worry about me, Dastun, I think I see my ride," Angel smiled as she looked past him.

"What?" he turned his head and saw a rope ladder dangling down from the sky moving towards them.

Angel jumped onto the ladder and blew him a kiss. "You're very sweet Dan!" she shouted. "Maybe I should forget Roger and take _you_ instead! Roger won't let me smoke at _his_ house!"

"What the?" Dastun stammered as he jumped to his feet. It was too late. Angel was already off the roof and heading away from him. There was nothing to do but wave back and grin like an idiot. "Yeah. That's not a bad idea!" he chuckled.

Angel climbed up the unsteady ladder to the huge white dirigible that was floating above her. When she reached an open hatch a metal hand reached out to take hers. "Thanks Instro!" she laughed as she hugged the formally dressed android. R Instro resembled a crash test dummy with a large flat head.

From the controls, R Fredrick O'Reilly glanced over his shoulder. "Is Miss Angel safely aboard?" he asked.

"Yes Inspector," Instro said as he sealed the hatch. "I'm pleased to say that she is none the worse for wear."

"You took your sweet time!" Angel exclaimed she made her way to the copilot seat. "Colonel Dastun nearly blew my head off!" she complained as she sat next to him.

"This airship isn't the easiest thing to operate," O'Reilly informed her. "I may have been programmed to pilot it but there really is no substitute for experience."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we all make excuses," she muttered while she lit up a cigarette. "Come on Dorothy. It's up to you," she sighed. "Get Roger out of there."

* * *

Down in the Memory Lab Dorothy was administering cardiopulmonary resuscitation to a comatose Roger Smith. "Come back to me Roger," she said as she pressed down on his chest at the rate of over a hundred compressions a minute. "Come back to me Roger," she chanted lifelessly before she pinched his nose and gave him another breath. "Don't you dare leave me Roger. Roger!"

The girl looked away from him as inspiration hit her. She trotted away and retrieved her stun club. As electricity surged on the prongs of the baton she touched it to his chest. "Clear."

An electronic zap was heard as Roger's body convulsed. Roger groaned and twitched and kicked his legs before gasping for breath. "Unh," he moaned.

An alarm sounded and flashing red lights illuminated the room, but the girl ignored them as she tended to her patient. Dorothy held his head steady and let him breathe before speaking to him. "Roger? Do you know who I am? Do you remember your name? Speak to me Roger. Let me know you're all right."

"Well this all very touching, but I was told to activate the self-destruct if the lab was breached!" Jenny Grant sneered from near the door. "Now explosive charges are going off all over the building and you two will be buried in here forever! Aah!" An explosion from out in the hall knocked Jenny down and sent rubble into the chamber. "No! No!" Jenny stammered as she rose shakily to her feet. She pulled at her short wavy hair as she gazed through the dust out into the hall. "The hallway's sealed off! I can't get to the escape hatch! We're going to die down here!"

* * *

Meanwhile up on the roof Dastun staggered as the building trembled and shook with each explosion. "Stevens!" he bellowed into his walkie-talkie. "What's going on down there?"

"Explosive charges are going off both in and under the building sir!" a tinny voice reported back to him. "Stay where you are! It looks like they've been planted on both the elevators and the stairwells!"

Up in the zeppelin, Angel jumped in her chair. "What was that noise?"

"Miss Angel, Inspector O'Reilly!" Instro said as he entered the cockpit. "There seems to be something happening to the tower. It would appear that our bomb wasn't the only one planted there."

"What?" Angel blinked. "Dastun! We've got to go back for him!"

* * *

Back down in the lab Jenny was weeping into her hands. "No... no…" she sobbed.

"You've done enough," Dorothy said as she zapped Jenny with her stun club. She turned and went to Roger's side and crouched next to him. "Roger," she said as she held a black wristwatch before him. "Get us out of here. You must call Big O."

"Unnh…" he groaned as he tried to roll over. Another explosion shook the room.

"Roger?" Dorothy asked timidly. "Roger!" she shouted. "Wake up Roger Smith! Wake up and call Big O to get us out of here!"

"Unh, Dorothy," he grunted as he tried to sit up. "For crying out loud, I'm awake. Can't you use something gentler, like mouth-to-mouth or something?"

Dorothy's eyes became narrow slits as her mouth became a thin hard line.

Roger took the watch from her hand. "Okay, Big O," he said into the watch. "It's Showtime."

* * *

In the hanger hidden in the white tower that was Roger's home Big O's eyes lit up.

* * *

At street level outside Arlington Tower the Military Police vehicles were dodging debris and driving away. "All units pull back!" the young officer shouted.

Up on the roof, Dastun was bounced around like a jumping bean on a hot plate. His eyes were closed so tightly that he didn't see Angel's white dirigible turn and head back to him.

"Faster! Faster!" Angel nearly jumped out of the copilot's seat. "You're not going to reach him in time! No!"

Dastun screamed as the tower collapsed underneath him before he inexplicably rose in the air to regain his lost height. "Huh?" When he opened his eyes he discovered that he lying on a hard metal surface. Five massive dark gunmetal digits were arranged around him. "What?"

"Look!" a soldier at street level pointed. "The black megadeus!"

Arlington Tower had peeled like a banana to crumble away and reveal an ungainly metal giant towering over fifty feet tall. The head of Big O was an impassive face that was dwarfed by the megadeus' barrel shaped body. Two vaguely humanoid legs supported its bulk. The enormous arms of the megadeus were in reality massive piledrivers with huge mechanical hands instead of chisels. One of its hands was raised high above it, holding Colonel Dastun as if he was a toy.

"Yay!" Angel cheered from the dirigible. "Dorothy did it! She did it! Dorothy rescued Roger and Roger rescued Dastun! We're done here boys. Let's get out of here. Bye-bye Dorothy," she blew a kiss at the megadeus. "Take care of Roger for me and stay out of trouble. _Au revoir_."

Inside Big O's crimson cockpit, a slightly disheveled Roger Smith was in the control chair. Although he was clad in a formal tuxedo, his shiny black hair was a mess. "Thanks Dorothy," he smiled gratefully. "I owe you one."

"Let's go home Roger," Dorothy suggested. "You've been through enough today."

"You're right Dorothy," he nodded. "I need to lie down before I fall down. But first let's get poor Dastun back on terra firma," he said as he worked the pedals and levers of the megadeus.

Down at street level Military Police officers and enlisted got out of the way as the metal giant lowered its colossal hand to the ground. Dastun grunted as he jumped off the massive palm onto the street as a hidden hatch in one of the fingers opened to reveal a comatose woman in a fetal position.

"What?" Dastun's eyes narrowed as he inspected her. "Jenny Grant? She's the one Angel said took Roger!" He looked up at the impassive face of Big O and saluted. "Way to go, Roger. It'll take more than this kook to hold _you_ old buddy."

"Unh, I'm not a kook," Jenny muttered as she tried to wake up.

A small circular screen in front of Roger lit up to reveal a monochromatic image of Norman Burg. "Ah, Master Roger; so good to see that you're well sir. This is the second time that Miss Dorothy has rescued you. It seems that our little girl has grown up. I'll have a hot meal waiting for you when you get home."

Clouds of dust hid the Military Police vehicles from view as the megadeus sank into the earth again.

* * *

_Dastun held Jenny Grant for questioning, but it's doubtful that any charges will stick to her now that the evidence has been destroyed. That means that that crazy witch will be back on the street soon, playing with the building blocks of creation and trying to fill the empty void in her life with the company of any man foolish enough to have her. It turns my stomach to think that my fate's been intertwined with a lowlife like her._

Roger gazed out at the city from his rooftop patio. He was clad in slacks, shoes and shirt but didn't bother with a tie or jacket. He took a breath of the morning air and smiled in relief. Despite the ordeal he had undergone he seemed to have made a full physical recovery. His head was clear and he could barely find the punctures on his face that Jenny had inflicted him with. Maybe that crazy woman was right and he really _did_ have tiny robots in his body that could even repair irreversible brain damage.

"Are you all right?" Dorothy asked as she came out onto the patio.

"Physically," he chuckled ruefully. "Thanks to you. Emotionally it might be a while." He gestured for her to approach instead of standing behind him.

"I understand," Dorothy said as she walked over to his side and stood by the wall that separated the patio from the dizzying drop to the street. "I too found my encounter with Jenny Grant quite disturbing."

"_You_ did? In what way?" Roger asked as nonchalantly as he could. "From what you told me she had no power over you."

"I nearly killed her," Dorothy said, "and I also used excessive force against the security personnel guarding the building. I attacked them with no regard to how much injury they might suffer."

"Violence is never pretty," Roger agreed, "even when you're the one dishing it out. I'm sorry you had to resort to such forceful measures."

"Roger, I don't think you fully understand. There doesn't seem to be any failsafe protocols in my programming to prevent me from taking a life," Dorothy explained. "There's nothing to keep me from hurting somebody."

"I've never known you to hurt anybody before Dorothy," Roger shrugged.

"Roger, I almost killed her," Dorothy told him. "The force I used against her security force was unavoidable but harming Jenny Grant was unnecessary. When I saw what she had done to you I was motivated to end her life. On purpose."

Roger looked at her intently. "So why didn't you?" he asked carefully.

"Roger I consider all life to be sacred."

"This from the girl who said that Miguel Soldano's last words was only the deranged ranting of a dying man?" Roger raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"That was before my father died," the girl clarified. "It was only when I saw him murdered before my eyes that I fully understood what death was. His death meant that he was gone. Forever. He would never return, never do anything again for good or evil. He was my world and he was gone in an instant. I knew then what a fragile, precious thing that life really is; anybody's life. I could never willingly inflict death on another after that, not even to the man who pulled the trigger. I couldn't make the choice to end someone's life, not on purpose. I just can't, for now I know what death really is. I can't picture myself willingly doing that to someone else."

"Congratulations Dorothy," Roger smiled warmly. "You've managed to figure out life and death, and good and evil, pretty quickly. You know what it means to be human. There are human beings out there who haven't mastered those concepts, who don't have the slightest clue. Jenny Grant is one of them. You don't need some artificial set of directives to tell you the difference between right and wrong. You're capable of making those decisions on your own. I'm proud of you."

"Then why do you treat me like a child?" Dorothy asked. "I may lack experience, but I'm more than capable of making my own decisions. And I don't have to run away from home and go to a bar to get the courage to make those decisions either. Unlike some of us, _Roger Smith_."

"Ouch," Roger winced. "Have a heart, won't you?"

"I was just wondering which one of us should be treated like a child," Dorothy continued. "You have to admit that I have a point."

"Yeah you do," Roger nodded as he slumped over the wall and looked down at his hands. "And you're right Dorothy. I shouldn't use alcohol to solve my problems. It just makes bigger ones."

"So I noticed."

"But you know all this started when you started picking on me while I was feeling vulnerable," Roger scolded. "It's not nice to hit a guy when he's down, Dorothy."

"I'm just trying to restore your fighting spirit," Dorothy assured him. "I believe the term is 'tough love.' If I was too nice you might not get your confidence back."

"Tough love, huh?" Roger repeated. "There _are_ other kinds you know."

"Really?" Dorothy was also capable of raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Sometimes you act as if you're unaware of that. It seems to be the kind of love that you're the most comfortable with expressing."

"I know," he smiled sheepishly at her. "I was just telling you so you could remind _me_," he winked. "And you're right about the drinking. That crazy woman would never have got a hold of me if I wasn't so pickled. I guess I was asking for it."

"No one asks for what you went through," Dorothy told him. "Feeling ashamed about being abducted and abused is natural, but those feelings are illusionary. It's easy to blame yourself even when the fault wasn't yours. _I_ should know."

"I just wish I could remember what made me run off and get drunk in the first place,"  
Roger grumbled. "What was I running away from…?" His eyes widened in revelation and he looked at Dorothy in alarm.

"Don't worry about it," Dorothy told him. "I won't hold you responsible for anything you said in the heat of the moment. Not right now. You're just not ready. After what you've been through I wouldn't be surprised if you were _afraid_ of women."

"That's ridiculous!" Roger protested. "I'm not afraid of women!"

"Really?" Dorothy's calm emotionless voice was good for conveying skepticism. "Then let us see." With one hand she reached out slowly and spread her fingers wide. Roger flinched as she gently caressed his face before withdrawing her hand. "I rest my case," she said. Her calm voice was also good for conveying smugness.

Roger frowned. Her remarks hit too close to home. His expression changed when a realization came to him. "Does that mean that you're afraid of men?"

"What does?"

"Why would you think that I'm afraid of women unless you were afraid of men?" Roger asked. "Do men make you nervous?"

"I never said that I'm afraid of men," Dorothy said. "It's humanity in general that has me concerned. In any case my feelings don't control my behavior like yours do."

"My_ feelings_ don't control my behavior, my _choices_ do!" the negotiator protested. "I assure you, any issues I have with women won't slow me down in the slightest!"

"Prove it."

"Okay then!" Roger pulled her towards him, holding her in his arms despite the knowledge that as an android Dorothy possessed the strength to make the hug lethal. Dorothy returned his embrace but leaned back as if in a swoon, allowing him to lean forward and seize her lips with his. As Roger held her steady Dorothy's hands travelled up and down his back as if searching for something until one of her hands caressed the back of his head and playfully ruffled his hair.

A fire seemed to enter Roger's body and Dorothy's kiss was electric. Music seemed to fill the air that was both melancholy and joyful at the same time…

No. The music wasn't like that at all. It was an obnoxious cacophony of piano music that managed to be both somber and impudent, smashing through that magical moment like a rock through a pane of glass. Roger opened his eyes to find himself lying in bed; his only company a darkened room with the shades pulled down to shut out the morning sunlight.

The birds perching on the white tower that was the Smith Mansion were frightened away by a loud roar. "R DOROTHY WAYNERIGHT!"

_We Have Come To Terms_

* * *

Dorothy and Roger sit on a large hourglass the size of a barstool. Behind them is an orange background. The sound of a piano and the duet of a man and woman singing can be heard.

_Sometimes I feel so all alone_

_Finding myself callin' your name_

_When we're apart, so far away_

_Hopin' it's me that you're thinkin' of_

_Could it be true, could it be real?_

_My heart says that you're the one._

_There's no one else, you're the only one for me._

_Yes, this time my love's the real thing._

_Never felt that love is so right._

_The world seemed such an empty place._

_We need someone we could give our all._

_Baby, it's you, we'll be together now and forever._

_Could it be true, could it be real?_

_My heart says that you're the one._

_There's no one else, you're the only one for me._

_Yes, this time my love's the real thing._

_Never felt that love is so right._

_The world seemed such an empty place._

_We need someone we could give our all._

_Baby, it's you, we'll be together now and forever._

_Never felt that love is so right._

_The world seemed such an empty place._

_We need someone we could give our all._

_Baby, it's you, we'll be together now and forever._


End file.
